MGLN: Through Troubled Waters
by Aku-dono
Summary: A year after the Scaglietti incident, Hayate's newly formed Section 6 tries to elucidate a bloodstained mystery that's far more complex than it seems... -Ignores the Epilogue- -NxF-
1. Prologue

**Opening notes: **It's important to note that I started writing this before StrikerS was over, and that nothing in the ending made me want to correct my plot for it. However, as nothing really surprising happened, everything up to the epilogue is part of this fic's canon. The epilogue itself, however, is not; Mobile Division six was not disbanded; much the opposite, actually.

Oh, and as for Midchilda using Earth's months, days or whatever, blame it on yours truly for not wanting to complicate things where it wasn't needed. I don't think you'll mind.

That said, enjoy my little work of fiction, dear reader.

—**October 27****th**** 0076—**

—**54°N, 105° W, Spineridge Valley, Verde Mesa, Midchilda—**

—**Time-Space Administration Bureau GDF-controlled Restricted Area 72—**

Brigadier-General Gutz bit off a curse as he stared at the clock hanging over the massive reinforced diallium alloy hatch that sealed the highly fortified installation bearing the top-secret address of "Storehouse 105, Middle of Nowhere, Midchilda". His teeth, permanently yellowed by tobacco and lack of care, gnashed against his fifth cigarette that morning.

Although neither he nor the two first lieutenants behind him had absolutely needed to stay standing there in front of the door for the last hour and a half, he wasn't, in his own words, a big enough sissy to sit down and wait, and neither should his troops. And if they were wasting their time, then it was hardly his fault, but just another thing to blame on the delegation they'd been waiting for.

He fucking _hated_ surprise inspections; not only did they set everyone on edge and were a huge security risk but they also forced him to leave the camera detail to _those two_.

_Those two_ were C-ranked mages with about six years (or something like that) of background in the GDF. While their low ranks limited their usefulness in combat roles, it did nothing to stop them from operating security consoles or serving as camera security, a job that could be done by a four years old assuredly. The real reason he didn't want them there without him, though, was that they were lacking something he considered essential for any jobs in the military, or whatever the Bureau's ground forces qualified as this week:

Balls.

There was no place for women, especially low-level ones, anywhere where strong stomachs were needed, as far as he was concerned. They were too soft, too weak-willed for the kind of work the ground forces were usually talked with accomplishing. It was no wonder most of them preferred to join those sissies in the air forces.

"_Sir, the convoy has reached the last checkpoint._"

He was, of course, conveniently forgetting that women were on average magically stronger than men, and were better fit for the often exhausting jobs of the air forces.

The clock buzzed at precisely 5 PM. The Brigadier-General sniffed in disgust; one hour and forty minutes, that's how late they were. Completely unforgivable. Their leader was probably some newbie with too much self-worth, thinking the surprise in "surprise inspection" meant "Surprise the base full of tense highly trained ground mages by coming in half a day late, and get the crap blasted out of ourselves under orders from yours truly".

"_Sir_," the telepathic message cut through his thoughts, and he mentally sneered; it was one of _them_. "_The inspection truck has cleared the last checkpoint, it should be here any second._"

"_So why the fuck are you only warning me __**now**__?!_" he replied scathingly. Her reply had the grace of being properly embarrassed.

"_I… I apologize, sir, I thought my message had reached you._"

In terms of mage rankings, C was barely better than D. C-rank mages were expected to have the ability to make magical devices work, as well as having some basic lessons in storage device usage and basic physical training. But to have trouble sending mere telepathic messages! How had she even reached that rank?

"_Why the hell did you try to reach me telepathically if you can't even do it?_"

"_Sir_," great, now she was angry. Boo hoo, cry me a river. "_You told me not to use M2Ds yourself. You said telepathy was less risky._"

Gutz grit his teeth, then spat out his cigarette then the filter finally gave in to his teeth. A real soldier would have saluted and asked him what color he wanted his carrier pigeons. But no, not _them_. Women always had to try and argue, regardless of who was in command. Tsh.

Why did she even stay in the ground forces anyway? She aught to just go back to her kitchen already…

"Warning," the station's PA system blared to life, interrupting the scathing reply in his mind, "incoming vehicle. Code Green-Alpha."

He'd always found it stupid that the part saying "Everything's fine" was at the end, but it wasn't like the base's PA was intelligent enough to be reasoned with.

The doors rumbled aside, allowing a large, but light by common standards six-wheeled Groundhog-class APC inside. The two sets of delta-arranged wheels rolled to a stop when the vehicle was right in front of him (a bit closer than they had to, really, but he wasn't going to let some lousy self-important inspector psyche him out). Its side-mounted doors floated from their hatches, halting about a meter from the vehicle, allowing the inspector out…

%*/(&%!!

Oh that was just fucking _fantastic_. Of _course_ this would happen. Someone up there must either hate him, or be conspiring to ruin his day even further.

"I am Lieutenant-Colonel Johanne Sikorsky, Section 3, third division," the woman introduced herself. She had silky black hair tied in a ponytail, kept long enough to make it a complete liability in a battle. Her uniform, while within regulations, was obviously the smallest size that would fit her, revealing her attractive curves. She had, he decided at first sight, obviously been promoted to her position because of her body, and not out of any reasons following basic common sense. "With your permission, I will inspect this building to make sure it conforms to the standards the Bureau expects from its storehouses."

"Do what you want," he replied in a grunt. And of course, both of her underlings were female, too. The first one was a petite red-head with bright purple eyes whose bust stretched the fabric of her top to its limits, while the second was a somewhat lanky purple-haired, green-eyed girl with very little chest and a lot of leg.

He was so busy complaining to himself that he completely missed the look the Lieutenant-Colonel gave to her purple-eyed underling, or the replying grin said underling gave.

"Sir," she said, "I realize you probably do not wish us to remain here too long."

You got that right, missy.

"This is why, if I may, I suggest to leave the inspection of some… more time-consuming areas to my assistants, Lieutenants Verissa," she motioned at the busty girl, "and Miata," she waved at the other, "… with proper escorts, of course."

"Sounds fine to me," he replied, genuinely pleased with the suggestion; anything to cut this as short as possible.

"Good! Then Lieutenant Miata can inspect your troops' living quarters, and Lieutenant Verissa will take care of the climate control systems. Is this fine?"

"Sure," he replied, then gave a look at one of his Lieutenants. "You, go with the tall one. You, take the red-head."

"Yes sir," they both replied in unison, saluting like good soldiers should. _Good_, he was overdue for some competence.

"As for you and I," the Lieutenant-Colonel said silkily, "we can begin our visit with the command center."

Had he been a bit less angry at them, just a bit more aware and less blinded by his sexism, he might have noticed she had not used "Security Room", which essentially served as the command centers for storehouses, a mistake no one from section 3 would have done. Had he not been underestimating his visitors, he might have noticed something was wrong about visiting those areas first and not, say, the storage area, which was much more time-consuming to inspect than the climate room. He might have noticed the dangerous predatory aura that surrounded the Lieutenant-Colonel as she followed him. He might even have noticed the way the APC's doors had silently slid back in their hatches.

But he didn't. And no one did.

And in the end, as his paralyzed lungs filled with a mix of poisoned air and his own blood, and his underlings collapsed and coughed blood at their consoles, and as the PA system screamed reports of poison spreading through the air control systems and the living quarters, there was only one thing he could think while looking at the grinning face of the "Lieutenant-Colonel" that loomed over him.

That… damned… woman…

**Magical Girl Lyrical Nanoha**

**Through Troubled Waters**

Prologue End


	2. Chapter 1: Insertion

—**West Coast, Kuranaga area, Midchilda—**

—**Time-Space Administration GDF section six Headquarters **_**Long Arch**_**—**

—**October 28****th**** 0076—**

"Vivio! Vivio—_mou!"_ Major Takamachi Nanoha paused in her search for her wayward daughter with an irritated sigh and an anxious glance at the clock.

Her little girl had unfortunately become very good at disappearing when she didn't want to be found; the main residential building of what had, once, been the Sixth Mobile Division and was now referred to as Section Six was large enough to give her plenty of hiding spots, and her developing (and unbelievable, to be honest) magic potential had recently grown to the point where the little girl could manage basic levitation; nothing very impressive, but just enough to allow her to reach places that would otherwise have been out of reach… and opening up brand new hiding spots.

"Vivio! Come out!" she called out once again. At this rate, she and Fate would be late for the briefing! Hayate would probably forgive her, but it just wouldn't do for a division leader like her be late, no matter the reason. She turned a corner, this one leading back to their room, and nearly ran into Fate, who looked as bedraggled as she felt.

"Anything?" she asked the blonde, who shook her head with a weary sigh.

"None. I don't think we can wait any longer. We'll be late even if we find her and bring her to school."

"Hm…" Nanoha noised with a frown as the door to their room slid aside with slick ease. "I guess we'll have to ask Shamal or Zaphira to take her—"

"NO!"

The exclamation was accompanied by an explosion of strawberry blonde hair as Vivio burst from under their bed—now why hadn't she thought about that one—leapt over the banister and homed her way into her chest with an unstable semi-floating trajectory. The little girl hugged and clung to her clothes even as Nanoha's arms closed around her, soothing her protesting weeps.

Although her growth could hardly be considered normal, Vivio had reached the biological (thus legal) age of six years old a few months ago, based on Shamal's examinations. By Midchildan law, this meant she was obligated to start her education, and while neither she nor Fate had anything against the idea, her favorite and only little girl _did_.

She did _not _like to be sent in a chaotic environment full of kids whom she had every kind of trouble relating to. She did _not_ like the other kids who made fun of her because of her eye colors, or the sensei who had to juggle the attention of over twenty hyperactive little tykes and thus had less time to spend on her alone. But mostly, she did _not_ like to be separated from her mothers.

Nanoha shared a suffering look with Fate, who smiled and gently pried open the six years old (well, kind-of) fingers, took the little girl in her own arms and worked her magic to calm her down. Nanoha had always been impressed at how _good_ her co-mother was at this; she herself was always a bit lost when the task of handling "their" child fell onto her, but Fate, in nothing but a few seconds, a few caresses and a few soothing sounds, did what would have taken her at least five minutes.

On the other hand, there was one thing she did pretty well and which Fate was completely hopeless at.

"Vivio, it's bad to hide yourself like that! Look at you; you're all dusty now…" Nanoha dusted the parts of Vivio's clothes she could reach, all the while clicking her tongue. "And you're making both Fate-mama and I late for work."

"But mama…" the little girl mumbled into the fabric of Fate's now dirty uniform, while said woman gave Nanoha a disapproving frown. Nanoha ignored it.

"No buts. We're late now, so someone else than us is going to take you to school—Which wouldn't have happened if you hadn't tried to hide," she added when Vivio made a noise of protest.

"_Zaphira said he'll get her in a minute,_" Fate told her telepathically, a Nanoha nodded nearly imperceptibly.

"Now finish getting ready, and Zaphira will come get you. Understand?"

"Mmmh," her daughter replied with a childish scowl. Nanoha smiled and bent down to look at her in the eyes.

"And if you don't hide, then we'll eat out where you want this evening. Ok?" Let it not be said that she only used the stick.

A brilliant smile appeared on Vivio's face, and she nodded energetically. "Uun!"

-

Fate changed her uniform top quickly and together they made a new record making it to the briefing room. Captain and division sub-commander Vita, as well as Sergeant and Squad Leader Teana Lanstar, were already there, alongside the rest of her squad, Private First Class Subaru Nakajima, Erio Mondial and Caro Ru Lushe. Their presence here was only possible thanks to the small size of Section six's operations side; normally, Nanoha would have been the one to brief them, and not Hayate's Aide-de-camp, First Lieutenant Reinforce Zwei. While she normally referred to them by their first name, hierarchy had to be respected—as far as practicality allowed, of course—during missions, from briefing to debriefing.

She was surprised to see the other occupants of the table, though; the first was a clear-haired woman with a serious expression and a uniform identifying her as an agent of section one, and the other was someone who was theoretically too high up the hierarchy (actual rank notwithstanding) to need to worry about simple briefings; Section Six's commander and Nanoha's old friend, Brigadier-General Yagami Hayate. As she sat down and Fate settled next to her, she expected a friendly admonition about her lateness from her superior, but the only reaction she got was a serious nod.

She frowned. Whatever was going to be said in this briefing, whatever their new task was, she knew it would be bad.

Then Hayate started speaking, and her suspicions were confirmed.

"One of our storehouses was hit yesterday."

It was all that needed to be said to inform Nanoha and Fate of how bad the situation was.

The Time-Space Administration Bureau's homeworld was Midchilda in everything but name; officially, the Bureau was not aligned with any political group in the multiverse. It was meant to be an independent police force to enforce interdimensionally agreed laws as much as possible, as well as maintain dimensional cohesion at all costs. However, the Bureau's charter, unchangeable except with a ninety-five percent majority in the council (an impossibility, as politicos in Midchilda's power boasted at least ten percent of the voting power at all times), forced them to, quote, "Realize the superiority of Midchildan magical research base and send any discovered, recovered or by any other means acquired artifacts it cannot reproduce on soils belonging to Midchilda for safekeeping and research", unquote, with a few amendments keeping things such as Dimension-destroying bombs or other Things-That-Everyone-Agrees-Should-Be-Sealed-Off as far from the system as possible.

In other words, almost every Lost Logia found had to be moved and stored on Midchilda or one of its moons, and couldn't even be researched in TSAB facilities. Nanoha still remembered the harsh legal battle that had played out to allow Hayate the right to keep the Tome of the Night Sky, ultimately leading to her being legally forced to stay on Midchilda most of the time, and ultimately to their current position as a section of the GDF as opposed to main branch.

The storehouses, massive fortresses of wear-resistant plastic-concrete and diamond alloy scattered in the most inaccessible possible spots, were the Bureau's answer to that obligation. Their armor was, at the thinnest, made of at least four meters of plascrete, a material that was highly resistant to any kind of damage imaginable, and reinforced with massive diallium plates. Typically, several levels of checkpoints and traps, both passive and active, led to those walls, themselves protected by the most massive guns the Bureau could legally bring down on the planet (and often, a little more), as well as several layers of wards and barriers concealing them from distant sight. And they were always occupied by a full division, about three hundred highly trained C to A-class combat mages. Protecting the storehouses was one of the most important purposes of the GDF, hence why the majority of Section one's personnel was involved with them.

To put it simply, nothing short of a mechanized division with fleet support was supposed to be able to take down one of the Time-Space Administration Bureau's storehouses, and nothing but an extremely shrewd character should be able to find them in the first place. And for a good reason, since the treasures they contained could cause more damage than anything else in the entire multiverse _combined_. If six jewel seeds activating simultaneously was enough to cause massive earthquakes and threaten dimensional cohesion, Nanoha didn't want to imagine what would happen if _sixty_ were triggered. It was a wonder why Midchilda wanted to have them on their planet; Nanoha knew that she would categorically refuse to keep any of them on or anywhere near Earth.

"How bad is it?" Fate asked.

"Very bad," Hayate replied. "Rein?"

The little unison device saluted, though there was very little of her usual enthusiasm in the action. "_Hai desu_." She cleared her throat and began. "At seventeen hundred and twelve yesterday, headquarters suddenly lost all contact with Storehouse 105 without receiving a single alert flag. Four hours later, Division 25 of Section 1 searched the facility, but found only two survivors hidden in an air vent. It seems some kind of gas weapon was used."

Over three hundred men and women, probably closer to three hundred and thirty in all, Nanoha absentmindedly noted, numbed with shock. How in the world…

"What about the Lost Logia?" Vita asked. The look in her eyes told everyone she preferred not to think about the dead.

"Two of the stasis rooms were broken into and looted," the unison device replied. "They took a bit of everything and left very little behind. It seems they weren't looking for anything too specific, or didn't know what they were looking for."

"Ignorant mercenaries," Fate mumbled. _Her_ eyes were full of fury, though, and Nanoha felt her own anger sing in agreement.

"Or maybe just extremely gutsy thieves," Vita suggested.

"Whatever they are, our mission is to catch the thieves and recover the Lost Logia before anything bad can happen," Hayate said. "To help us, Major Nakajima has agreed to let us borrow one of his specialists, Doctor Asuna Marquette, forensics expert."

"Pleased to meet you," the fair-haired woman said pleasantly with a smile that didn't reach her emerald eyes. Sounds of distracted acknowledgement answered her.

"General, if I can ask a question," Teana suddenly put in, "it seems that this mission could be better accomplished by Section two's investigators. Not to say that Section six is unable to do it, but shouldn't an important mission like this be led by experts?"

Nanoha smiled at the good question, and noticed Vita did as well, if only to cover it quickly with a scowl.

"Seems obvious," the diminutive red-head replied in her best 'You should have thought about it yourself' tone, "it's the Lost Logia. Section two's spooks are damn good, mind, but they don't have the kinda battle line we've got. Wouldn't say if it was only one or two, or even a handful, but those bastards filched a good dozen with that stunt."

"Exactly," Hayate confirmed. "Once caught, we, that is, me and most of Section two's heads, believe the thieves will give whoever attacks them a very hard fight, much harder than what Section 2 or a mobile division could handle easily; Section 1 would have to mobilize a full battle division to fight them, and by the time they'd be ready, the thieves would probably have left already.

"There is also the possibility that the investigators themselves will stumble on these opponents. This is the kind of generalist, dangerous jobs this section was built for, and I expect you all to succeed. Any further questions?"

"Jus' one," Vita said, "you want 'em broken or mashed up?"

"Broken will do."

"Gotcha."

-

--

Teana Lanstar tried to remain as still as possible on the quivering seat of Section six's primary helicopter. She would not make a move to embarrass herself, not in front of her superiors, not in front of her subordinates. She would _not_ be caught fidgeting on her first mission as a Sergeant. She would _not_. So what if she felt like she had ants in her legs instead of muscles, or if she'd have preferred to run on a wing road and try to keep up instead of just sitting there inside the vehicle doing nothing but thinking about the many ways she could screw up on this mission? _She. Would. Not. Fidget._

And it took everything she had to do just that.

Tension was high inside the helicopter. This was Section six's first job as a section, and their first job after the Scaglietti incident, and a failure, especially one on the scale indicated by the amount of stolen Lost Logia, would be spectacularly bad for their reputation. But that, Teana felt, wasn't what the others were worried about. And to be honest, it wasn't what she was really worried about, either (well, except personal failure, that is).

The real problem came from the fact that, for the first time for any of them, they would be sent on a murder scene. And not just of a murder, but of a cold-blooded slaughter involving over three hundred souls. None of them had really met death in its violent variety, as far as she knew.

It was probably a testament to Captain—Major now, she reminded herself—Takamachi's training that they were less worried about fighting those who had done this, even if they were armed with a bunch of highly dangerous artifacts, than of seeing the result of their attack.

"Not much longer now, get ready!" Sergeant Vice's voice came clearly through the onboard PA system.

"Are we authorized for landing?" Nanoha asked.

"Yeah… took a while for them to ID us, though… well, that's what they say at least; I think they were just lying on their asses ag—"

"That will be all, Vice-kun." Nanoha's voice was chiding.

"Roger that, Major." Vice's was completely unrepentant. Teana chuckled despite herself. Outside the window, the barely perceptible platform of Storehouse 105's helipad drew itself like a tiny green mushroom over the endless green sea of Verde Mesa's virgin coniferous forests.

--

Magical Girl Lyrical Nanoha

Through Troubled Waters

Chapter 1: Insertion

--

"Come in," came the command only an instant after Fate's soft knock had rung through the hallway.

Hayate's office had not changed in the last year, except for a few minor cosmetic changes. It was still as large and quiet as before, although one of the window panes behind the large desk (not the smaller one belonging to Rein) had been faded away to let a warm autumnal breeze and the sounds of the headquarters through; Hayate, Fate knew, was proud of her section and, perhaps just a bit vainly, liked to be reminded of it. At the moment, though, she looked far more exhausted than prideful, although a small light returned to her face as soon as their eyes met.

"Fate-chan," Hayate greeted with just the lightest sigh and complete disregard for protocol, "how did it go?"

"Mostly fine," Fate replied, settling down in the chair she knew as the comfiest in front of Hayate's desk and putting her report on the desk, where it lay ignored. "Nanoha-chan is reviewing the video of the attack, Shamal and Marquette-sensei are probably looking at the first of the victims, and the Forwards… I mean, the Alpha-Stars squad is resting, but still good to go if something happens."

A sour look appeared on the earthling's face, and Fate knew what she was thinking. Perhaps it was a bit unbecoming of an officer of her rank, but Hayate couldn't bring herself not to care about her people on a personal level; her friend had a mothering instinct that could only rival her own, and hated the thought of difficult things happening to the people working under her, even more when she was directly (or indirectly) responsible. It was, however, something the earthling woman had to work around on her own, so Fate continued her report while the other woman brooded, "As for the dead, well… everything in the preliminary report is true, including the systematic disfiguration."

"What about the survivors?" Hayate asked. "How are they?"

"Completely out of it. The station's doctor said it was an "overdose of exotic chemicals", and that they really should be left to flush it all out on their own. Their data is in there," she pointed at her report on the desk, "but since you prefer to hear it directly from your people," she smiled at the twitch of lips this brought on Hayate's face, "I'll say it out loud: Aya Strasse and Marie-Anne Gelande, both low-level third privates, one of them with six years of experience behind her, the other with eight, both heading out of the security room at the time of the incident. The Doctor believes they were exposed to weaker concentrations of the poison because of that, and Bardiche agrees."

"_The map of the air vents Raising Heart and I have deduced while within the facility indicates that the location of their discovery is particularly distant from the climate control area. The possibility is not null._" Bardiche explained.

"As for what'll happen to them, well… if they're not up in two weeks, they'll be sent off to main HQ for treatment. Otherwise, they'll be integrated with the new guards."

"They'll still work there? Isn't it a bit cruel?"

"Security measures," Fate replied, although she agreed with Hayate's assessment. "The station's location is already compromised, they don't want to have more leaks than what they have now. Of course, that excludes the possibility of if they aren't stable after this, in which case they'll be sent to HQ anyway."

"I see," Hayate said, then frowned. "You said mostly? What went wrong?"

"Section two--that is, one of their inspectors came on the scene while we were finishing up and tried to raise a fuss... her name was... uh..."

"_First Inspector Kelly Longhead, Second Section, Third Division_," Bardiche helpfully supplied.

Fate nodded her thanks and continued, "I think you can expect some trouble from that side."

"Thanks for the heads up," Hayate replied sourly and sighed wearily, for what sounded like the nth time.

"Is something wrong?" She asked worriedly, dropping protocol as well.

"What?" Hayate blinked, then seemed to realize Fate had seen her state--which, to be honest, anything with eyes would have. "Oh, no... well, yes. Maybe."

She sighed again and pushed herself back into her chair with enough strength to make the cushioning matrix glitter momentarily.

"I received a message from Signum just a few minutes ago. Apparently those stubborn... people from Section one are going to try to make a fuss again during the next general meeting, and as little of a chance they have to make the President and the Council see things their way," the latter was said with a wry grin which Fate returned; after the way Section six, Mobile Division Six at the time, had handled the Scaglietti incident, there was very little indeed that could be said to make those highly-ranked people who supported them retract the "promotion" the division had enjoyed. "I'll still have to be there and try not to give myself too much rope wanting to strangle them while they dig into my past and that of my kids. And your own, as well."

"Mine?" Fate blinked.

"Oh yes, they just love you, and Nanoha too, to a lesser extent. After all, you are the adopted daughter of a retired Admiral from the old and noble Harlaown navy family, as well as the biological daughter of a criminal whose body was never recovered, and someone who made it among the ranks of the Bureau's Enforcers in record time despite that record." Fate nodded. Her outward expression did not so much as twitch. "As for Nanoha, her hands are cleaner, but not completely stainless, seeing how her messages to home, an undeveloped world, are completely uncensored and addressed to people who aren't connected to Midchilda at all; last time, they tried to bring up Alissa-chan's future ownership of her parents' corporation as grounds to suspend Nanoha for breaking the Bureau's non-interference decree."

Fate snorted. Typical of them... besides, Earth did not even know about magic at all, so there was very little they could do even if Nanoha accidentally told them how to make, say, a matrix for a large-scale defensive spell. "So what's their plan this time?"

"Your brother's position as a high-ranking admiral, and accusations of nepotism," Hayate replied simply.

Fate frowned. Chrono Harlaown's rise to Captainship had given birth to a few waves in the ever-shifting waters of the bureau's dance of promotions, but he had quickly shown himself to be a capable captain for the Asura (then mostly obsolete and arguably an acceptable first ship for an untried captain); more than that, his family-bred talent (forged through spending more time on the bridge of a ship than planetside, she admitted) had been quickly recognized and had led to one of the fastest ascension to Admiralship ever seen, something that had definitely not been welcome quietly by those who were opposed to old navy families such as the Harlaowns.

However, those who would stand and claim Chrono did not have what it took to be an admiral were few and far between, as his scores put him among the Bureau's top ten. So then, how would they use that against Section six? Hayate was a capable leader, and her rank was no surprise to anyone who knew how much the Bureau valued its high-ranking mages—few and far between as well, mages stronger than S-rank tended to be led to more comfortable, safer jobs as officers, and kept away from the fighting until they were really necessary, and Hayate was one of the Ground Forces' extremely few SS rank mages. Nanoha and Fate, who had achieved their ranks through sheer fighting prowess more than magical power (though they had that in spades), were exceptions to the rule.

Her question must have shown on her face, because Hayate waved it away. "Oh, don't worry, I'm not worried about what damage they can do to my position with that argument. The problem is that I wanted to bring up the possibility of expanding Section six—I see you remember what we talked about, and the problem about it."

Fate nodded and repeated from memory, "Leading a one-division Section is fine for a Brigadier-General, but any bigger than that and it becomes a proper General's job," then she realized the problem, "and if they bring up the "problem" of quick promotions among the people you know…"

"Then their case becomes stronger if I get promoted after only three months as a BG, and I might end up weakening my base in the process."

Fate sighed. This was why she hated politics.

Hayate smiled. "Yes, I hate them too," she replied, then grinned at Fate's startled face. "It just showed up on your face. So, enough doom and gloom; what about the Forwards? How did everything go with them?"

"Fine enough," Fate said, deciding not to mention how the kids had been roped into carrying the first load of bodies to the helicopter's storage area. "Vita is proving to be a very capable division captain, such as it is; she should be coming back with the last load and the backup squad anytime now… and of course she'll be grouchy at being left with all the work."

"Of course." Hayate said with a small laugh.

"As for the others, well… no comments about them, except Teana. She was unusually quiet on the way back and…"

"And you're worried she's lost confidence in herself again?"

"Something like that," Fate said, then added, "Of course, this is nothing a Section commander should be worried about," with a pointed voice.

"Hmm," Hayate's voice was dismissive, and Fate resisted the urge to sigh. "What about Nanoha?"

"What about her?"

"Well, it is her first job as a division leader…"

Fate chuckled. "Same as ever. There was a bit of a snag with that that woman from Section two, but she handled that just fine."

"By sending everything over to me," Hayate accused.

"By sending everything over to you," Fate confirmed with a pleasant smile. "_Ganbare, _General."

"To the brig for your cheek, Enforcer. And that's _Brigadier_-General," she corrected with an amused wry grin. "Then, you're confident she'll be a reliable leader for division one when it starts growing?"

Fate nodded in confirmation, knowing what Hayate's misgivings were. "She didn't take it upon herself to spare the kids the job of carrying the bodies. I'm guessing that means either she's learning to delegate, or she's getting lazy."

The latter possibility was met with a snort from Fate's superior. Of everyone in the section, Nanoha was the one most likely to be described as a workaholic. It was all Fate could do to convince her to sleep for six hours a night, and eight(!) on the weekends.

"I'm just glad she didn't try to give them a shortcut," Hayate joked. "I've got enough work on my hands already, I don't need to deal with complaints from a division commander—of my pay grade, no less—unhappy about his brand-new Takamachi-style Skylight!"

"Nanoha isn't _that_ bad," Fate protested.

Hayate grew an impish smirk. "Fate-chan, just because you're lovers doesn't mean you have to be blind to her faults."

Fate grew crimson. "Wh—Wha…No! We're…I mean…" she stammered awkwardly.

Hayate blinked, and Fate almost _heard_ the gears rolling around inside her head. "Wait… are you saying… you're saying you're… not? I mean… I just…everyone just assumed…"

"We're just friends," Fate protested.

"Who sleep in the same bed?" Hayate pressed. "And I've seen what you wear to sleep."

"It's just a habit we got into when she was hurt. And I like silk."

"Who take showers together?"

"Not very often—and it's more convenient—"

"Who have a child together?"

"Vivio isn't—I mean—"

"Who kiss in front of everyone during the inauguration party?"

"She was drunk!"

"You weren't."

Fate's face took on a tomato hue, and Hayate smirked. "Ah ha, I see how it is… just friends, hmmm?"

"W-…Well…" Uh oh. Fate loved both of her friends (Nanoha a bit more, granted) but just as she wasn't blind to Nanoha's overachieving tendencies, she was also perfectly aware of Hayate's bad habit of meddling. And the _last _thing she wanted was to have someone butting in on _that_ situation!

"But I bet you—" There was a strident blip, and Hayate bit off an exclamation as an M2D appeared next to her.

"_Hayate-chan," _came Reinforce's voice, "_I have the reports for this months's fuel usage here, do you wish to hear it now or should I just upload it?_"

"Upload it," Hayate ordered. "I'll read it later."

"_Hai desu!_"

The vid window disappeared with a small blip, and Hayate turned back to her vict—subordinate. Unfortunately for her, Fate had taken the interruption as her cue, and had quickly moved across the room.

"I'm off to work out a bit, ma'am!" she said with a salute, then left before Hayate could say anything.

The brown-haired girl pouted lightly. But when she returned to her reports, her mind was already churning over possibilities, and a grin was slowly forming on her lips. Only her desk and furniture were there to hear the impish giggle that escaped her throat.

God bless, Fate.

--

The water running over her body was hot, a lot hotter than what she usually partook to, but she enjoyed the feeling, like a fire burning at the uncleanness she could still feel. Her skin was already pruned, and she was pretty sure the fog would never go away from the chromed shower head, but she didn't care. All Teana wanted was to wash off the blood on her hands, the sweat in her hair, and most of all, the smell from _everywhere_, and forget what she and her squad—her friends—had had to do just a few hours earlier.

Privately, she knew she had no ground to complain. Orders were orders, and certainly carrying around seventy-five bodies—out of three hundred—from the storehouse's hastily improvised "morgue" to the waiting helicopter wasn't a job for the higher-ups. No, she should just be glad Captain Vita had volunteered to help them out, and be twice happy that Shamal-sensei had the ability to create portals with her device—just how many special abilities _did_ section 6 have anyway?—and be infinitely glad said bodies had been sealed first.

Except for the one she was in, the dozen shower stalls that filled the women's shower room were empty. Caro had taken a quick shower and left about… something like twenty minutes ago, (maybe?) leaving her alone with her thoughts.

She made a face at herself. Caro had barely reacted when she'd seen the bloodstains on her hands, but it had taken quite a bit of Teana's self-control to stop her breakfast from seeing the light of day again. Subaru, lucky her, had been carrying the bodies by the trolley on her wing-roads and hadn't touched any of them personally, and she couldn't remember seeing Erio's reaction.

"_Vita, Teana, you and your squad will help Shamal and Marquette-sensei transport the bodies. I know it's—"_

"_Understood," Vita interrupted Nanoha-san's apology before it could even start._

As for Vita-_taichou_, never mind touching them, the faux little girl hadn't even flinched at the _smell_; just remembering the stench was enough to make Teana gag even now. Once again, she growled to herself, she'd been the weakest link.

Oh, she wasn't surprised. She'd known it for a while now, that she was nowhere near as strong as her teammates, and that no amount of training would ever allow her to catch up to Subaru's mechanical strength, Erio's incredible speed or Caro's rare skill. In terms of magic potential, she was the weakest, despite her rare aptitude with illusions. In terms of strength, she was the weakest. In terms of strategy, however, Nanoha had done her best to instill her with as much mental speed as possible, hence the reason why she was the official leader of the team of powerhouses that was the Lightning-Star Squad.

It galled her, however, that she had proved to be mentally weaker on this mission as well. As far as she was concerned, she had messed up. After all, wasn't she the only one scalding herself under this ruddy shower? Hell, Subaru was still helping out the doctors, and here she was, brooding alone…

Then, and mostly, there was the way she'd frozen up in indecision when that Longhead woman had shown up—

**-**_**Shhh**_**-**

"Whoa, 's hot in here."

Teana looked at the door and saw Vita-_taichou_'s tell-tale cardinal-red hair poking over the shower wall. The perpetually little girl walked down the row of stalls, stopping only when her eyes met with Teana's. For a moment, it looked like she was wondering what she should say, before she finally entered the stall next to hers and turned on the water. Teana flinched to the other side as her overheated skin came in contact with the icy water that flowed out on the captain.

For a moment, neither spoke; Teana listened to the noises the little girl made as she cleaned herself, trying and failing to return into the thoughts that had been bothering her since her return.

Finally, Vita spoke. "So, what're you boiling yourself for?"

"I'm… not. I like it that hot," she lied, then cursed mentally; without her thoughts distracting her, the water spray was starting to get painful again, but after saying that, she couldn't just cool it down without looking like an idiot…

Fortunately, or was it, Vita saw right through her. "Ain't nice to lie, 'specially to your bosses," she chided.

And with a sheepish expression, she stealthily moved the handle; the crimson glow inside the shower head shifted to a reddish purple, and the water grew cooler.

"Now, since you don't look like you're just gonna go and tell me what's wrong, I'll just have to guess, won't I. You're grossed out over the bodies."

"I'm not," She replied, and it was true, too; an hour after the fact, she was less disgusted at the coldness of the cadavers and their visible brain matter than at herself.

"Then what's up? If you're thinking of brooding as a hobby, then I'll just have to show you more productive ways of distracting yourself. And I don't mean writing crappy poetry 'bout dying and stuff. Since Signum's always busy, I need a sparring partner anyway—"

"It's n—no wait, it isn't nothing," _anything_ to avoid sparring with the hammer-happy red-head. Melee wasn't her thing if she could help it, and there was no way she'd want to spar against someone who could go hand-to-hand against Subaru!

"Hm? Then what's up?"

"It's…" she sighed. Checkmated. "Captain, did I screw up?"

"Oh, I get it. So little miss self-esteem issues is back." Excuse me for being realist, Tia bristled mentally. "So why d'you think you screwed up?"

Sharing her doubts brought them back, but somehow saying them out loud felt different from usual, as if she was throwing weights overboard instead of counting them aboard her own ship. Vita listened quietly while applying some shampoo to her sweat-soaked hair and washing it out.

"Let me ask you something," Vita said when Tia was finished, even as she blindly reached for her towel to dry her eyes. "Did you throw up?"

"Well, no, I didn't," Teana mumbled, surreptitiously moving the towel closer to Vita's searching hand.

The towel was found and her eyes were dried when she spoke again, looking at Teana's face peeking over the shower wall. "How many people do you think would've?"

"…probably a lot."

"Almost everyone, y'mean. Me? I've seen stuff quite a bit more awful than that in my life." And Teana believed her; it was impossible to tell how old Vita was, but she certainly didn't talk like a little girl... or did little girl things, _ever_. Well, except maybe in front of the commander.

"As for your troops, well… Erio looked pretty sick, and Caro's seen worse working in the woods. As for Subaru, I ain't even sure if she _can_ throw up. And as for that woman, well…" Vita snickered, "it's kinda funny, actually. I wanted to talk to you about that, to congratulate you about how you acted."

"Huh?" But… she had screwed up, right? She'd just stood there like an idiot while that woman yelled and ordered her, not sure if she was supposed to obey _her_ or Nanoha-san. Surely none of that was worth one of Vita-_taichou's_ rare praises!

"You might think you just stood there looking dumb, but I know quite a few people who would have just dropped everything and waited for their superiors to clear things up; but since you didn't let anything go, they couldn't butt into our business at all, can't even claim they did."

"B…But…"

"Sometimes, it's a leader's job to know when not to do anything and wait." There was a metallic squeak and the torrent of cold water stopped. "You did fine, Sergeant Lanstar."

And Vita grabbed her towel, slid it around herself, opened the door and left. A minute later, Tia shut off her shower too.

--

Long Arch's scanning room was small for its stature as the only one of such rooms for an entire section, but then one could argue it was just the right size considering Section Six's current effectives. It was mostly empty, though none of the room was wasted when maintenance time came around, with scanners of various types adorning the walls. None of them were in use at the moment, though, except one of those on the furthest side, a video analysis screen, in front of which Takamachi Nanoha sat.

To say she was watching the gruesome scene that developed on the screen in front of her would have been a lie. In truth, this would be the seventh time she would see more bits of what had happened throughout Storehouse 105 the previous afternoon; the attack had come swiftly and without warning, with the Lieutenant-Colonel Sikorsky's assistants disposing their escorts with quiet precision blasts and unleashing the content of their suitcases—some kind of yellowish gas weapon—into the storehouse's air supply and living quarters. Sikorsky herself had been in the security room at the time, with only two technicians and Brigadier-General Gutz.

A dozen mages in full body armor—most likely power suits, based on the ease they had at moving with all that weight on them—and carrying Midchildan-style attack devices had then erupted from the APC without caring about the gas and proceeded to secure the station, shooting every body they could find with a single blast in the face for some reason she could not understand; a handful could have just been simple hatred of the Bureau (God only knew how much of _that_ existed!), but for all of them to inflict the same wound in every case meant… meant what exactly? It seemed like such a waste of time…

She sighed, looking at the freshly mangled body of a young man on the screen, recognizing a hallway she and Fate had walked through just a few hours earlier. The crimson stain of blood and brain matter was identical to what she had seen, although the body (and the brain bits) hadn't been there anymore. Now that she had seen the face of the one whom the blood had belonged to, it only felt… less fake? It still felt a bit virtual to her somehow, but then she hadn't personally seen any of the bodies.

Unlike the forwards.

She was secretly proud of how they'd handled themselves through that operation. She and Fate had flown with them on the way back, with only Vita-chan staying behind to make sure no one messed with anything important, and she'd been surprised at how_ normal_ they still looked. She had been a bit afraid that they were still too young and immature, that the forwards who'd come back with them would be quiet and traumatized, but they had come out of it just fine.

Privately, though, she berated herself. Preparing someone to meet death wasn't fun, but it was needed, and through her focus on making them combat-capable, she had completely forgot about that. She_ did_ have the excuse that Mobile Division Six had been meant as an emergency intervention division, and that the Forwards' main task would have then been correctly targeted by her training. In a way, she had not realized what Section Six's change from a mobile division to an independent section had meant for the kids.

She sighed, then looked at the video. It was stopped, for some reason, at the very moment the thieves had entered and secured the stasis area. She blinked in confusion.

"_I stopped the video_ _when it appeared you were not paying attention,_" Raising Heart informed her.

"Why… I _was_ paying attention!"

"_I stopped the video precisely three minutes and fifty-seven seconds ago._" If it was possible for an Intelligent Device to sound smug, then the little orb hanging from Nanoha's neck did. Nanoha's face took a color similar to her device.

"I… I mean… Oh, fine, I was distracted." she sighed. "Did you detect anything out of what we've seen? I didn't."

"_The files do not appear to have been tempered with, and none of the criminals seem to have revealed any details about themselves except Johanne Sikorsky, Isuzu Miata and Lancia Verisa. More reviewing might be productive, however." _She replied.

Although Intelligent Devices and Artificial Intelligences in general were asexual by design, it was common courtesy to refer to an AI by the sex they considered themselves to be, and most AIs, be they in devices or vehicles, chose voices that were either obviously male or female. This selection was fully in their control at the start of their existence, and came into play only when a new generation of AIs was to be designed; Nanoha allowed herself that old smile at the thought of Subaru and Teana's reactions if they ever learned about exactly who were the "parents" of Mach Caliber, Cross Mirage and Ginga Nakajima's Blitz Caliber.

"Hm… let's continue this later, then."

"_Let's._" Raising Heart agreed.

To Nanoha, it sounded like she was tired as well.

--

"_It is me, milady." _

"_Report." _

"_There was a complication. I could not complete my mission." _

"…_explain." _

**Chapter 1: Insertion **End

--

Yes, I know. Lots of characters, but most of those here are in for cameo appearances… most of them.

The M2D thing is a nod at Satashi and her Sixth Division series, which I consider to be definitely readable stuff.

**Notes: **Time-Space Administration Bureau Ground Defense Forces Sections

The sections, for the most part, mirror the structure of both the Main and Air branches of the TSAB. The only exception is Section 6, which is unique in purpose.

**Section 1**: The army, the bulk of the Ground Forces. Divisions are somewhere between one hundred to five hundred mages large, with the most common groups (Batallions, such as the one Genya Nakajima leads) being about three hundred strong, plus support and direction crew. Has plenty of specialized groups, such as five small "elite" mobile divisions built for quick mobilization, insertion and intervention. Yagami Hayate used to lead the sixth one within this section, even smaller and stronger than the others. Over 85 percent of the Ground Defense Force's personnel belongs to this Section. There is an entire sub-section reserved for mages on Ship Duty, who despite technically belonging to the GDF end up under the command chain of the Main Branch. This allows the Main Branch to save a lot on training costs, as well as giving a way for the Ground Forces to expand their influence; a win-win deal as far as both otherwise separate organizations are concerned. Midchilda also approves of this, as the vast majority of the GDF is composed of Midchildans.

**Section 2: **This section handles criminal-level investigations; it acts more like a massive and organized detective force than a military section. Fate T. Hallaown did considerable work for them as a special investigator. Agents are often switched with the Main Branch's Section 2, in either direction. There is no real separation between both; indeed, their respective leaders have been married for thirty-seven years.

**Section 3: **Administration, the equivalent of the Bureau of Personnel and Supplies in conventional armies. Although no one "canon" belongs to this section in the GDF, retired Admiral Lindy Harlaown works in section 3 of the Main Branch. This section includes the inspection divisions, and dubiously enjoys a reputation as mostly useless penpushers.

**Section 4: **Research and Development; the eggheads. While the Bureau forbids the use of mass-based weapons, this ban is not universally upheld, as there is an infinite number of worlds in the infinity of the interdimensional continuum. Therefore, it often finds itself researching those very weapons, although mostly to find means to defend against them. At present time, however, it has mostly caught up to Midchilda's intrauniversal neighbors, and enjoys the same magitech lead Midchilda itself enjoys. As a result of Section 4's work, the Bureau enjoys a comfortable technological superiority. Like section 2, Section 4 has no real separation between its Main, Air and Ground Defense forces.

(Note: Section 4 also includes all facilities involved in the building, repair and maintenance of the Bureau's vehicles. In terms of size, it is the second largest Section. Practically every base employs a maintenance staff borrowed from it.)

**Section 5: **Intelligence and Counter-Intelligence. Very little is known about their activities, except that they are doing their jobs right. After all, very little is known about their activities.

**Section 6: **Newest section of the Ground Forces, used to be Section 1's Sixth Mobile Division before its brilliant performance during the Scaglietti incident. An elite section meant to be able to handle any kind of work that comes its way, its divisions are meant as independent units to be sent against the toughest and most dangerous jobs. The section was mostly made, however, to allow its elite mages to be as powerful as they can be under Midchildan limit laws. Enjoys the best equipment, the best training, the best recruits and the highest priority… in theory at least, if one excludes the jealousy it has inevitably spawned, especially within Section 1.

**Universal Section: **This section is unusual as its agents, called Enforcers, are spread all over the range of the TSAB's activities. Enforcers are entitled with making sure _everyone_, even their own commanders, follow the rules. A powerful elite section, its removal from service was attempted multiple times throughout the Bureau's history, but the need of a police force overseeing a police the size of the Bureau was deemed (and indeed repeatedly proven) required. Fate T. Harlaown is Section six's assigned Enforcer (despite the critics about favoritism this has inevitably created). This section has very close, though unofficial, ties to the St. Monarch's Church.


	3. Chapter 2: Questions

--

"…and that's about all Raging Heart and I got from the videos."

As a flurry of nods acknowledged the end of Nanoha's report, Fate let her mind look over what they had so far: Seventeen highly prepared and equipped thieves, over three hundred victims, eleven stolen Lost Logia of various types (most of them, thankfully, relatively low-threat things on the level of Jewel Seeds, as opposed to scarier things like the Book of Darkness), three traitors on the run, one disappointed and sulking adopted daughter…

She winced at the last one. Vivio had not taken well to learning that neither she nor Nanoha had the time to take her to Michael's Pizza as promised. After having thrown a world-class tantrum that Hayate had probably heard all the way to the main building, she had spent the rest of the evening pouting on the sofa. She would have also refused to eat had Nanoha not put her foot down, something Fate wouldn't have been able to bring herself to do.

She sighed. Raising a child sure was a lot of work… Work she had never expected to end up with, all things considered… well, maybe; Midchildan magi-tech was pretty amazing at times…

Was she blushing? Did anyone notice? She hoped not.

"…and while analyzing all those samples is taking some time even with the equipment you have here," Marquette-sensei was saying from the end of the table she was sharing with Shamal, and Fate scolded herself for not paying attention, "with everything we know, we managed to pin down the poison to seven possibilities, most of which are considered exotic and deadly to the extreme."

Shamal took over, "One of them is particularly interesting, however…" she hit a button on her console, and the hologram of some kind of complex molecule appeared over the table. "This substance is known as 'Maiden's dust'. It appears as a very fine reddish-brown powder, is very hard to produce, very toxic and very illegal practically everywhere."

"The reason it's interesting is that it has a… a rumor around it," Marquette continued, pausing briefly on the wording as if hesitating to use such an unscientific term. "It's completely undocumented, but they say some people turn out to be largely immune to it, meaning that besides suffering from something like a bad allergic reaction, they don't die," she clarified, "I figure it might explain why we had survivors in the first place; if the poison was any of those we think it was, then the dose they've been subjected to should have been fatal, two or three times over for most of them. The problem is that none of the traitors appeared to be wearing any kind of filters, which implies they themselves are immune."

"And that they knew about it," Fate noted. Shamal nodded.

"Yes. Which is the problem, really; no one knows much about Maiden's Dust, certainly not enough to test for immunity, except through direct testing."

"Ain't that a test people would jump over each other for," Vita wisecracked. Brief smiles ran across the room.

"Maybe there's an antidote?" Hayate suggested.

Marquette shook her head. "Doubtful; there isn't much of a _need_ for an antidote; a dose of only two PPB is lethal; it causes generalized muscle paralysis and heart failure within thirty seconds. Our best simulations indicate that the brain suffers irreparable damage after half that time. If there is a drug that can create a temporary immunity, it's beyond section 4's knowledge."

"I… see." Hayate mused. Fate followed her train of thought silently: Section four was privy to Midchilda's best brains. There was very little that went on in Mid's universities that the Bureau wasn't connected to in some way, or wasn't aware of. The possibility that a high-level research on a deadly poison had discovered such a drug and hadn't been detected was doubtful at best… unless it hadn't been done on Midchilda. However, the GDF's homeworld had a significant edge when it came to technology, and Section four was even further ahead; the possibility of another power succeeding in such research _while_ keeping it hidden from the Bureau was even smaller.

It _could_ have been a rogue researcher like her biological mother, Fate conceded to herself, but _they_ tended to go for more scientifically significant accomplishment than finding miracle cures for little known toxins. Plus, a rogue wouldn't have all that many resources…

"How much money are we talking about?" Fate asked. "If this poison really is so strong and hard to make, I can't imagine any producer would give it away cheaply."

"Probably not, but if someone manages to get their hands on the _means_ of production, it's remarkably inexpensive; most of its ingredients are used in substances like fertilizers," Marquette replied. "Of course, those means are, shall we say, difficult to acquire. Atomic destabilizers, quantum manipulators, tunnel and n-space generators, aural scanners, probably a D9's worth of energy per decagram…"

"Lots of equipment that's hideously complicated, extremely expensive and pretty much impossible to get quietly," Shamal clarified. Marquette gave her a look, then glanced at the suddenly less confused crowd and had the grace to look embarrassed.

"Right," Hayate spoke up, "but we're not completely sure this is the right poison yet, and the probability of them being able to get this particular one is small at best," she and waited for Marquette-san's confirming nod before continuing, "in which case we can't ignore the other ones. I already sent Vice-kun and Zaphira out to follow their trail, and Alto is on standby with the other helicopter and the backup team. Vita?"

"Yeah?"

"You're on standby with the Alpha-stars squad. Because of the Lost Logia and the danger they represent, you are not to engage them without either me and Reinforce or Fate and Nanoha as backup, no matter what happens."

"Got it."

"Failing that," Hayate continued, "figuring out exactly who we're dealing with here might help us find them, or give us a clue as to what's going on. Therefore, Griffith-kun?"

"Yes ma'am?" the tall man stood at attention.

"I want you to gather up a few people and start looking for people who've bought unusual quantities of what's needed to make these poisons."

"Yes ma'am."

"Shamal, give him a list of equipment and possible ingredients, especially for this 'Maiden's dust', as soon as possible. Marquette-san, try to confirm if we have the right poison."

"Yes ma'am." Marquette saluted, while Shamal nodded.

It was a good plan, Fate decided. If Zaphira and Vice didn't find them, then figuring out who might have made that poison might hopefully take them to wherever the poison had been delivered, perhaps leading to some kind of clue as to where they were now, or at least to where they were going. It was all very uncertain, and no doubt finding a poison maker couldn't be easy, but at this point, it was the best clue they had. After all, it wasn't like they had anything else; everyone and their dogs would have loved to put their hands on a handful of Lost Logia, so anyone would have the motives to do it, and there didn't seem to be any other leads…

Wait, no. That wasn't true.

"Any other suggestions?" Hayate asked.

"Yes," Fate spoke up. "Griffith-kun, try to have some people looking for a purchase of seventeen power armors. Could you identify their builds?" she asked Nanoha, who glanced down.

"_Farsight Technologies Personal Protection Powered Armor, Model C-742._" Raging Heart replied. Fate glanced at Griffith, who nodded.

"Good call," he said while noting it down on his M2D. "I don't suppose they used a military model delivery system for the toxin?"

"_I could not identify it. It is most likely a home-made system._"

"No," Fate disagreed. "Since the toxin is so expensive, they wouldn't want to let even a bit of it be wasted. Plus, they carried their suitcases on the way back, and if it really is that deadly, doing that with an imperfect system is just begging to lose people to residues. No, the delivery system had to be made by a pro…" a pro… which raised the question of how they had come in contact with such a person…

…contact?

Maybe…?

"Fate-chan?" Nanoha asked. Fate glanced at her; evidently, her thoughts had shown on her face well enough that Nanoha had had no difficulty reading them. She turned toward Hayate.

"I think I may know someone who could know about this… I think."

"Someone?"

Fate grimaced. "An… unpleasant acquaintance of mine."

--

Magical Girl Lyrical Nanoha

Through Troubled Waters

Chapter 2: Questions

--

—**West Coast, Kuranaga area, Midchilda—**

—**Time-Space Administration GDF section six Headquarters **_**Long Arch**_**—**

**--Front Entrance Lobby/Mess hall--**

_Click. _

"So boring," Teana sighed from the couch where she lay prone on her stomach, still wearing the tank top and shorts combo she preferred during training. Her feet were doing a little dance in the air, absentmindedly pulling at the mostly-removed socks flailing behind them like a particularly clumsy gymnast's ribbon. One of her hands held her head up so she could stare at the floating media stream while the other rested on the remote module. Every few seconds, that hand twitched and the screen changed from something uninteresting to something that had every impression of being just as dull, but with a higher number in the upper left corner. At the moment, it was saying 243.

Caro was in a similar pose on the other couch, but instead of looking at the screen, she was lazily typing something in the M2D in front of her, and her already bare feet were playing tag with Fried. Erio, sitting at the table with Strada's weapon form in multiple pieces on display, knew she was writing to Lutecia from the wistful air her smile had taken; she always looked like that when the other summoner was concerned.

As for Subaru, Erio hadn't seen her since morning training had ended; she'd wanted to train a little more, and Vita-taichou had only been glad to oblige.

_Click_. 244. _"—expected to increase for the sixth consecutive year. When asked for information, the director of Milestones Quantum inc. replied,…"_

Erio finally put Strada's newly polished blade aside and looked at the other pieces, releasing without even noticing his own sigh; being on alert was a lot less exciting than one might expect. While he was grateful for the break in training (not that he'd even mention it to Nanoha-san of Vita-taichou), having nothing to do—in fact, being ordered to do nothing—was something he'd lost the habit of since joining this squad.

Still, it let him maintain his device, something he knew Strada was in need of; the armed device had felt unusually unresponsive this morning.

"…_in Interstellar news,_" the anchor was saying while Erio picked up Strada's four-shot revolver loader, "_the Bureau confirmed this morning having received no reply from the Florentine Empire about the continuing absence of their envoy for the annual direction meeting next week, despite contradictory claims from Florence, and that the meeting will happen regardless of the envoy's presence. Rumors claim that Prince Belgerius himself has already condemned this decision, but the exact message has not been delivered to Midchildan networks as of this ti—_"

_Click. _245. "_—add the milk, while mixing carefully so avoid spills,…_" _Click. _246. "_Sensei…_" "_Ninomiya-kun…_" _"…Sensei…!" "Ninomiya-kun!" _

Erio squinted carefully, stick and chiffon in hand to wipe the empty barrels. The extremities were then cleaned as well, as was the fixed part of the loader, at which point he slid the revolving barrel inside, carefully arranging the ejection slides to match the sides of the container. Strada was actually rather awkward to reload during a fight, but he was experienced enough with it that it barely bothered him anymore, mostly thanks to Vita-taichou's special training, as Graf Eizen suffered from similar design faults.

Maybe they were related?

Hah. As if, he though, dropping the barrel in.

-**click**-

He paused, then with a frown, carefully applied light pressure to the revolver and tried to rotate it.

It resisted, just a little.

Just a little too much. He looked up.

"Teana-san, do you know where the oil went?" Sure he could have gone to the garage, but he was pretty sure there was still a can of the stuff going around the dorms.

_Click. _247. _"—Longcaster moving in from the right, very carefully… he needs to take the next stretch orAND HE'S GOING FOR IT HE'S GOING FOR_—"

"Hmm?" Teana noised, looking at him confusedly for a second while her boredom-addled brain caught up, before replying, "Ah… I think—Oh shut up—" she snapped at the ecstatic announcer and the roaring vehicles on the screen, switching it off, "…I think Subaru took it to our room, it might still be there."

"Ah, thank you." Without waiting for an order, the pieces of Strada glowed softly and melted into each other until his device was back in watch form. He picked it up.

"Mmh." _Click_. 247. _"—amazing turn of eve—"_ _Click. _248. _"— 'll be your kitty cat, scratch my ears and I'll make you purr (check it out) " _

Leaving his teammates and the shapely familiar swinging her hips and lip-singing on the screen behind, he walked through the short passage leading deeper inside the dorm. Subaru and Teana's room was in the building's north wing, on the right hand-side, and as he took the familiar flight of stairs to the second floor, he let his mind wander, first on Strada's maintenance, then on whether or not he was ready to take on the criminals this time (ultimately deciding that, with his teammates backing him, he was ready to take on anything this side of Nanoha-san), then on the acts said criminals had committed, to the haunting memories of broken skulls and exposed brai—

He reeled and, for the twentieth time since then, pushed away those memories as far down as he could. As far as the eleven years old boy was concerned, that was done and over with, and he was just glad no one had raised a fuss about the bedsheets he'd stained the morning after.

His hand reached for the door handle to the two girls' room. In his distraction, he forgot to knock.

Subaru had apparently entered the dorms from the northern door, sweaty, tired but satisfied with her training. She had also worn a yellow bra that day, which had also gotten quite wet.

He knew this because, when he opened the door, said bra had been with soggy training shirt on the floor, and Subaru's bare breasts had been the first things he saw, like spotlights in the night. And without any prompting whatsoever, his mind spent the next seconds of bidirectional surprise recording every single detail it could about them; the thin bands of pale white sunlight shining through the blinds accentuating those heavenly curves; the single drop of sweat rolling down over the glittering sheen like a river snaking along in a forgotten valley; the perfectly round pinkish-brown oreo—

**--!!**

"S--**Sorry!­**"He squeaked in shock and pulled at the door. It barely had time to slam shut that he was already running; his room was only a few doors away. Once inside, he finally let go of the breath he'd held without noticing. Hoping that Subaru wouldn't barge in demanding an explanation, and hoping even more that his face would eventually stop burning, he sat down on his bed and tried to gather his wits.

"_Bild gespeichert,_" Strada declared helpfully.

"D—Delete picture," Erio stammered, mortified. His ears grew a magnitude warmer.

-

The next time she saw him, at lunch that evening, Subaru gave him an understanding smile and a playful wink while no one else was watching. In her mind, he was apparently too young for The Incident to matter. He couldn't bring himself to look in her face after that, though—and even less below!

In the end, he never did use that oil can.

--

—**Remembrance Grounds, Kuranaga area, Midchilda—**

—**Jolly's Squat—**

—**October 29****th**** 0076—**

The metropolis of Kuranaga had a history that could be traced a few thousands of years back. Originally built on the fertile delta of a river now shrunken to a ghost of its past, it had expanded throughout Midchilda's tumultuous and war-torn past to become the capital of the Midchildan Republic (the planet having been nameless and considered as the sole existing world at the time) two hundred and fifty-one years ago, around the time of the Centennial War. At the height of its growth, the metropolis had taken a phenomenal size by any standards, counting over two billion souls tightly packed in an area roughly the size of Spain.

The main reason for this growth had been the war, as Midchildans had flocked to the city's protection against the theocratic kingdom of Belka and its hell-bent will for domination against the only other major nation in the world. The flow of refugees had forced the construction of an ocean of high-capacity housings, which had rapidly expanded the city to its maximum historic growth.

In the final stages of the war, however, the losing kingdom had launched a last ditch attempt to destabilize Midchilda in what was unanimously considered as the darkest act of the planet's history, and had thrown its last fleet of bombers, hundreds of titanium-armored, monstrously massive airplanes, each armed with a magic-enhanced neutron bomb, aimed directly at the teeth of Midchilda's defenses and Kuranaga's most densely populated areas.

Only a handful had made it through to drop their payload, and none had lasted very long afterward, but it had been enough; in less than a week, over sixty percent of Kuranaga's population, about fourty-five percent of Midchilda's and twenty percent of the entire planet's, had perished from the blasts themselves or from radiation poisoning. To this day, the southwestern side of the city has never recovered, and instead lies as a forest of abandoned buildings used by the GDF as improvised training or testing grounds, known colloquially as the Dead Zone.

Instead of destabilizing Midchilda, however, this act had instead angered and galvanized its army to the point that, once the war was over, there had simply been nearly nothing left to destroy of the Belkan capital and people. The only remnant of the once strong Belkan kingdom now lied in the Church of the St. Monarch, which followed a far more benign sect of the Belkan God-King than the fanaticism that had pushed the powerful Belkan war machine.

In an odd twist of fortune, one of the 'lucky' bombers had made its way deeply inside Kuranaga to crash into the ancient fortifications that had surrounded the city before the war, and instead stood dozens of kilometers behind the city's modern bounds. Because of the chaos resulting from the bombing, no one had had attention to spare for it until the end of the war, at which point the wound, although still raw, had scabbed enough with cold Belkan blood to let Midchilda decide of its fate in a more rational manner.

This led to the creation of the Remembrance Grounds, consisting of the wall and bomber left as they'd been, a monument dedicated to making everyone remember the horrors of the final Midchildan war and that, for the seventy years that followed, enjoyed the commercial boom of tourism typical of such an attraction. Then, the Time-Space Administration Ground Defense Forces Headquarters had been built, and the area's shop owners discovered that the giant spire's shadow caused daytime to end about one and a half hour early, something that greatly displeased day-farers as much as it pleased the nocturnal type.

It didn't take long after this for the Remembrance Grounds, more commonly known as "The Wall" nowadays, to turn into the center of Kuranaga's night life, a function it still serves to this day. And, inevitably, it had also grown as _the_ area where crooks of all types, though especially the dealing, trading and trafficking kind, enjoyed the most freedom despite many attempts to solve the problem.

_-_

_Jolly's Squat_, a strip-club built only a few corners away from the monument, was no exception. The somewhat roomy establishment entertained a daily clientele of about two hundred patrons eager to get drunk on alcohol and flesh, and hired a score of employees chosen more for their natural attributes than for their skills, to serve both as waitresses serving drinks in the maze with walls of circular tables and air of tobacco that was the lower section, or as strippers to catch the attention (and money) of already hypnotized clients on the elevated floor.

Fate was already used to working undercover. Although she was relatively young, she'd already received plenty of experience working as a special investigator for the Bureau, a job that often required its agents to infiltrate potentially dangerous situations. She knew perfectly well how badly such jobs could end, and knew just as well that the only reason she was still alive today was her proficiency at combat magic. Today's job, though, was nowhere near as risky, and as she carried a handful of glasses that reeked of alcohol to a table while giving a sideway glance at the pole dancer on the stage (whose incredible bust simply had to be the result of surgery), she mused that it might even turn out to be fun.

"_Ano… Fate-chan, are you busy?_"

The process of taking a glass from her plate and putting it on a table being a trivial one, Fate replied, "_No, not really… what's wrong, Nanoha? Did you see him?_"

"_N…well, no, not yet… but…_"

"_Hmm?_" Fate prompted.

"_Do we really have to be wearing __**this**__?_"

_This_ was what Fate considered to be simultaneously the worst and the greatest outfit she had ever seen, as her brain was equally divided on the subject. On one side, the part of her that loved Nanoha's soul couldn't help but wish it could take over to deliver righteous punishment on those pitiful drunk low-lives who dared leer and drool at all the skin _this_ revealed on the other woman. The other side of her mind, however, wished it could sit down and join them, even if she was herself in a similar uniform. As a result, she did the next best thing and diplomatically ignored both ideas.

_This_ was Jolly's Squat's waitress uniform. Modeled after what Fate would expect the maid or familiar of a particularly perverted master to wear, it consisted essentially of a lacy bustier coupled with a flaring miniskirt that threatened, with every movement, to reveal the silk garter belt that held up a pair of stockings and partially covered the individualized but usually minimalist lingerie worn underneath. In fact, the garment seemed to be built especially for that; with every step the waitresses took, the cloth moved as if animated by a spell (which it could very well be, Fate mused) to tempt the unwitting patrons with an inviting flash of flesh.

There were two versions of the uniform to be seen wandering around: a white and a black version, and the latter seemed to be much preferred in the dark environment of the bar. As a result, Nanoha, who had preferred the white version, reflected the glaring red and violet lights of the stage like the beacon of a lighthouse to every pair of eyes in the room; especially, Fate admitted, her own.

The original plan had been for Nanoha to pretend being a client, and Fate to act as a waitress. However, as Fate had been changing, Hayate had walked in (supposedly for some business she hadn't revealed in the end, and of which Fate highly doubted the existence), glanced at the uniform with a glint in her eyes that Fate had definitely _not_ liked, and proceeded to sweet-talk Nanoha into wearing it as well, "just to see". The sight Nanoha had offered upon coming out of the changing booth, long hair pulled in a single long ponytail held in place by a white ribbon, bushing like a bride and somehow managing to make this fetishist's dream seem to be perfectly innocent had stunned Fate into dumbly agreeing to a last minute mission change, and so there they were, both serving drinks to low-lives drunk on alcohol and female flesh.

She was going to have a _talk_ with Hayate after this. A nice friendly talk, preferably over a very friendly no holds barred sparring session. It really wasn't fair of her to abuse of her weakness like that…

Fate had to admit it made sense, though: since the overwhelming majority of Jolly's Squat's clients were male, Nanoha would have looked quite out of place. Among the waitresses, however, Nanoha _also_ looked quite out of place, as the others, wearing black and completely uncaring of what their strut revealed, unanimously evoked sensuality or lust, whereas her friend, wearing white and trying not to flash her knickers every which way, only managed a quiet girl-next-door charm of innocence.

Fate appreciated it a lot more. The clients also seemed to, which Fate appreciated a lot _less_.

"_It's part of the mission_," Fate replied, trying to ignore how her friend's latest maneuver had allowed the client behind her to catch a glimpse of her pink panties, much to his enjoyment. She did her best to ignore the fact that, before a few minutes ago, she hadn't known the color of said panties. She also did her best to ignore the mortifying fact that she knew exactly which pair it was, and how good it looked on her in a bright room, especially with the matching bra.

"_I know, but it's a little embarrassing…_"

"_Just focus on the job and less on the stares,_" she replied, although she silently mused that she'd better not worry too _little_ about the stares. "_Can you see him anywhere?_"

"_No… are you sure he'll be here?_"

"_It's my best bet. People like him need clients to know where to find them, and can't afford to give private information like a contact number to just anyone,_" she explained. Her time as a special investigator during her Enforcer training had taught her a lot of things that Nanoha, who had focused her career on the technicalities of kicking ass and taking names (which she admittedly did with a rare panache), hadn't learned."_Seeing as he's been very careful to keep all his shadier deals disconnected to himself, he hasn't had the need to move away or around, meaning he'll probably be here some time tonight._" Kept quiet of course was the possibility that he was busy tonight. She was hoping he wasn't.

Even if the alternative was spending another night in this bar with Nanoha wearing _that_. Really.

"_How do you know someone like him, anyway?_"

"_I've met him before; on my first case, actually. Led us to 'some people' who liked to deliver Fuzzy to other people who sold it to a high school in Highrise. I suspect he only wanted to get rid of some overambitious clients who were becoming dangerous._"

"_Fuzzy?_"

"_An addictive soft drug…_" she resisted the urge to sigh. "_You need to keep up with Midchilda, Nanoha._"

"_Sorry, sorry… And you didn't arrest him?_" Nanoha, bless her, seemed to be unable to understand the concept of not gunning the crap out of someone suspected to be a criminal. Fate managed to control her amused smile into becoming nothing but a twitch of her lips.

"_No grounds. There was no mention of him anywhere in the files of anyone we arrested, and the money trails disappeared before going anywhere near him. We __know__ he's a creep, he's just a damn good one who knows how to stay out of trouble. And if I'm right and he's connected to this, then he'll sing like a bird to get out of this one. Directing small fry drug sellers to clients is something, but selling a weapon that was used against the Bureau, well…_" She smiled at a client, bending down just such to show some cleavage while taking his order on an M2D.

"_You think he sold the poison?_"

"_Doubt it. Too obvious. Too big. He's a big fish, a _very big_ fish, but in a relatively small pond, and throwing himself in biological weapons isn't his style. The delivery system, though, now that's more his style. He __**does**__ fiddle a bit with nasty custom-made storage devices, or so we think," _read: "we're pretty sure", as only so much circumstantial evidence could pile up without becoming seriously suspect, "_so I wouldn't put it past him to have connections to some pretty talented mechanics willing to break a few laws for a few credits. Any one of those could have done it, but we're not really interested in knowing which one._" She stood back up, waving the floating interface away. "_I'm going in the back now, watch the door._"

"_Ok_."

The owner and head cook of Jolly's Squat had already received the order and had been in the process of fiddling with his pans' heating spells when Fate walked in the kitchen. Upon seeing her, the portly man in a white cook uniform shot her a glare, which she pointedly ignored. Fate didn't like him; he was a sleazy little toad with a wandering eye and a naughty hand.

He was, as far as she was concerned, a worthless bastard.

The fact that he had tried to flip Nanoha's skirt when he saw her didn't help.

No, it didn't help _at all_. And he was probably lucky Nanoha hadn't seen a thing.

Too bad, a Divine Buster would probably have done him some good.

"Just so you know, I'm not paying you for today," he grunted. The pan in his hand flared with a brief flame.

"That's allright," she replied. Her pay as an Enforcer for today alone was probably worth working in this place for a week, anyway. "We appreciate your cooperation."

He grunted something that sounded like a derisive laugh while she filled herself a glass of water. His reaction was perfectly normal, though, considering she _knew_ he was aware of what that usual client of his liked to do, and no doubt was paid quite a bit for his silence. And it was entirely likely that there was more than just their quarry who liked to do business in his bar in that case. Having undercover Combat Mages among his staff could not be among the things he really wanted, but he probably didn't want to get himself in trouble with the Bureau either. It was most unfortunate that their mission had nothing to do about cleaning up the scum around here, but that was a job for the Midchildan police, which the Bureau was in no way connected.

Except for the occasional anonymous tip, like the one that had already been delivered by someone with no contact to Section six, and who especially wasn't their Enforcer. And if the police couldn't handle it, well…

...the scum would go home free, and it wouldn't be her fault. Sometimes, it sucked to work for the Bureau.

"Our deal was for no arrests," he reminded her. She hadn't counted, but it had to be for the sixth time in one hour.

"_Unless_ things get dicey," she reminded back, for the equivalent number of times. "Which they shouldn't, since we only want to talk to him."

He grunted, clearly not believing a word. It wasn't like he could ring up Hayate and say he'd changed his mind, though. For a few moments, the only sound in the kitchen was the sound of cheap meat frying in a magically heated pan, and Fate became increasingly aware of the ugly man's equally ugly eyes on her. The pan finally rang, and as she approached the counter to receive the order, she nearly recoiled at the leer that came to his face then.

"Maybe I'd cooperate more if you offered to dance instead? Or maybe your little friend? We haven't had a cutie like her on the stage in a while now, I'm sure the crowd would love it."

He was more solid than steel. That was the only possible reason why he hadn't melted at the glare she'd shot him.

Definitely a worthless bastard.

"_Fate-chan, he's here!_" came Nanoha's voice, and Fate forced herself to calm down.

"I'm afraid we will not have the occasion," she replied diplomatically. "Hopefully your… tactlessness won't be having me forgetting our deal at the wrong moment."

The leer vanished and was replaced by a nervous grimace. She left, satisfied with that.

-

Fate remembered Victor Stanz as an unpleasantly pleasant man, in that he emitted an aura of cheer and good health that naturally put people at ease, but that a deeper look would push away to reveal the fetid core of a rotten apple and the maggots crawling around it. Back then, he'd been wearing a cheap replica of a Centennial war-era officer uniform, which consisted of a richly colored cotton vest closed with golden clasps, with black pants completing the uniform. He had ditched the practical black boots that would normally have completed such an ensemble, preferring instead the comfort of sandals and bare feet, as he did now.

He had changed little from Fate's memories. Perhaps his gut was protruding a bit further over his belt, perhaps his hair had thinned a little, perhaps his chin had fattened up, and perhaps the rich stench of quality cigars that floated around him like a toxic aura had grown a little. But overall, she recognized him instantly when she saw him sitting on a handful of royally colored cushions like a Belkan king in one of the VIP areas in the back. A young woman who did not look like she was old enough to even walk in the building curled languidly around his feet and held his bottle of ale upright, though Fate saw her emerald eyes narrow in suspicion between her neck-length purple locks as Fate entered the unequally lit lounge; some kind of bodyguard or sycophant, then.

"Victor Stanz," Fate asked, although she didn't need to, and it reflected in her tone.

"In the flesh," he replied, appearing completely uncaring at first sight. Fate did not miss the way his hand slid under one of the cushions, where a storage device was probably hidden. "And you are?"

"Someone."

He smiled a bit, probably used to evasive answers like hers. "Well, then, miss Someone, do you have business with me… or is it pleasure?"

He rolled on the cushions to make himself more inviting, while the bodyguard's glare grew stronger. Fate resisted a shudder. On the bright side, it didn't look like he remembered her.

"Neither," she replied. "I am merely looking for… information."

"…oh?" He sat upright. He was curious now. "What kind of information?"

"Information that could put people who are connected to it in a lot of trouble," was her reply. The young bodyguard tensed up again.

"Hm… I take it you're with the bureau, then." This time, the girl's reaction was a snarl, and only the crook's large hand falling on her head calmed her down. Definitely a sycophant. Maybe she was a familiar?

…or maybe she wasn't? Fate mentally gagged in distaste.

"You may assume what you want." It didn't escape her that he immediately guessed she worked for the Bureau, instead of the police.

"So I will," he said pleasantly. "Then, what does the almighty and benevolent _Administration Bureau_ want with an honest and ordinary hard-working man like me?"

Oh of all the bullshit she'd heard… "Two days ago, one of the Bureau's facilities was hit by a highly dangerous chemical weapon. The extent of the damage and the number of victims is unknown, as are the identities of the perpetrators."

"How tragic," he said, and his tone said everything that needed to be known about how much he cared. She almost missed that tiny nervous quiver in his voice. "And how does it relate to our business?"

"We have no business with you specifically," left unsaid was that she could _very well_ suddenly change her mind about that, "we simply wish to find out if you know anything about that, considering your network of connections. We consider it entirely possible that you could have heard of it by accident." Like, say, from your own lips.

"Hm…" he paused, obviously weighing his options.

"The Bureau is actively looking for them," she continued, "and I don't think I need to tell you the kind of fate they would prepare for those who helped them commit their act… which both we and the bureau as far as we know do not believe you are in any way connected to."

It almost _hurt_ to lie that much, but it had to be done. The man in front of her was ultimately a coward; offer him a way out of trouble and he would take it, she knew.

"Why would I know anything about it, then?" he asked. He was obviously trying to sound impassive, but she easily sensed how nervous he was feeling at the moment, and she knew she had him. The thieves had indeed contacted him and hired his help, which wasn't too surprising considering how well connected he was.

"Then you claim not to have heard anything about this?"

"Of course not."

"And you would answer the same no matter how many times we came to ask?" Or with which weapon system, or with which battalion…

"Of course."

"That is unfortunate," and totally false. "Then we only wish to know one thing: if you were to, say, organize the sale of a gas weapon delivery system," she caught the barely perceptible twitch of his hand and knew she'd been completely right, "where would you arrange the drop-off to happen at? Theoretically."

"A…a weapon system, you say?" It was such an obvious ploy there was no way a shrewd costumer like him didn't see it. Between the obvious way out and the stick waiting for him if he didn't cooperate, though, she expected him to sing like a bird in spring.

And she wasn't disappointed.

"Of course, I do not peddle in such matters, but theoretically, if I were to deliver such an embarrassing piece of equipment, the best place for such a trade to happen would be in a park, where no one would notice a package hidden in a bush, with an obvious landmark like a fountain nearby," he spoke evasively, and Fate double-checked that Bardiche was noting everything in his memory. "I'd also make sure it's a fairly deserted park… yes, Memorial park would be perfect for that, I think… Not that I'd know anything about weapon systems or anything, but my work sometimes forces me to organize package deliveries without the exchanging parties ever seeing each other, you understand…"

"And client confidentiality means you cannot reveal the nature of that kind of work," Fate completed from memory, having heard the same excuse being used in the past. Then she mentally slapped herself when he blinked at her, and the light of recognition started to shine in those small eyes.

"Yes… you… …wait a second… I've seen you before, haven't I… oh!" His eyes widened in recognition, and a wide grin appeared on his face. "Well well, if it's isn't the little bunny!"

_Great_. Now he remembered her. Nice work, Fate.

Well, at least she got what she wanted out of him first.

He laughed. It sounded like a dirty mutt choking on a bone. "You're just as breath-taking as you were back then, princess. Have you reconsidered my offer?" At his feet, the purple-head gave her a glare that would have sent the blonde pushing up daisies if looks could have killed.

"_Is there something wrong?_" Nanoha asked. Fate knew she was listening in, as Bardiche was transmitting everything he was sensing to Raging Heart, who most likely delivered it directly to her mistress, and that the question meant less what it seemed to than it did "Do you want me to bust in and break heads".

"_I'm fine,_" she replied. "_I'm almost done._" Then, out loud, she said, "No, I did not. Thank you for your cooperation."

"So cold, bunny… I'm sad now," he drawled with a shit-eating grin.

Surely that was grounds for arrest. Had to be. Or at least grounds for Plasma Lancer. She was pretty sure Hayate would grant her pardon.

"Oh well. I guess you're busy, so I won't hold you up any longer…" she was already leaving, probably the only reason why he was so 'graciously' dismissing her. "Good luck catching them, bunny. They're so lucky, being chased after by a beauty like you. I'm almost jealous!"

'_You just keep looking forward to that day when I'll be arresting you, you sick son of a bitch. I know I will.'_

-

"Are you… ok?" Nanoha asked as she sat on the passenger's seat of Fate's convertible and closed the door with a lot more reserve than the blonde had just used.

Fate nodded sharply, then reached for the ignition key and twisted, starting the engine with a whistle of magic. "I'm fine," she repeated.

"You're not."

"…I'm not." She admitted. "He makes me sick."

"I admit having someone like him flirting with me would make me sick too, but you're overreacting…" Nanoha, bless her, knew Fate a little too well at the moment. The blonde sighed.

"I told you I met him a few years ago, right?"

"Yes… something about your old case? Or did he try anything back then?" She sounded like she'd gladly have razed the building here and now to get him if he had. Fate felt her heart flutter a little.

A little part of her was disappointed she'd only have done it out of friendship, instead of jealousy. She shushed it.

"Thankfully not. He was just like he was now, charming like a dressed up toad and flirting anything with a skirt, including me."

"So what's the problem? Besides the obvious."

Fate inserted Bardiche in the dashboard. The engine started automatically, purring like a tiger.

"I met him on my _first case_, Nanoha. How long ago was that?"

"First case… that had to be about 8 years ago, right—…oh!" A frown went to mar her features. "You mean you were…"

"Eleven years old," Fate confirmed flatly.

"And he…" Nanoha trailed off, seemed to consider it with an increasingly distasted frown, then reached a conclusion. "Ick."

"Yeah."

And she drove away, leaving Jolly's Squat, the artificial night of The Wall and the privateers it harbored behind.

--

—**South Kuranaga—**

—**October 29****th**** 0076, 1814 hours—**

-

"Blue's Square," Doctor Asuna Marquette read from the M2D floating lazily over the entrance of the parking, as she and Doctor Shamal closed the door of their borrowed GDF-issue jeep. The blonde doctor had introduced the establishment as the favorite R&R bistro for Section six's employees, and for many of the other Bureau facilities that operated around the Dead Zone, partially due to its location within very easy access of the western highway, only a few blocks away from the inhabited border. This explained the fact that more than half of the vehicles parked around it seemed to be Bureau standards.

Had the two story building housing Blue's Square been just a bit taller, it could have been called Blue's Cube. It was a modestly sized building of neo-modern light grey Plascrete bricks and windows from which a warm yellow light filtered through some kind of diffusion spell. It was framed on every side by a small garden of hardy bushes and flowers long dead in the autumnal wind, except where the short roofed porch around the front door replaced it. She guessed it must have looked lovely in summer, but in the cold wind of fall, the establishment's exterior struck her as rather lonely.

The interior, however, was much different. Within a few seconds of opening the door, she saw uniforms from four different Bureau sections, all in various state of dishevelment, mingled with civilian clothing, often at the same table. There was a delicious smell floating about, spices mixed with frying meats and vegetables in a way that immediately sent her stomach to noisily reminding her it was empty. Sounds filled the air, a faint sizzling from the kitchen drowned in that unique sea-like sound that a crowd enjoying its time makes.

A handful of M2Ds floated around with menus, orders or television shows on them, sharing the alleys with young cat-eared familiars acting as waitresses. There was little to no separation between the tables which, combined with the common employment of so many patrons, led to many discussions being had between groups of ten or more, though none of it seemed to concern work. A perky tabby-tailed and eared familiar wearing a tight shirt and hip-accentuating jeans hopped by them, accepting their coats to take them in the back.

That's around the time the person who later introduced herself as Blue showed up.

"SHA--MAL--CHA--A--AN!"

The exuberant exclamation was accompanied with a colorful blur as Blue, an imposing woman in a glittering purple and yellow dress, long legs and high heels, seemed to teleport in front of them to take Shamal's small hands in hers. Asuna felt downright tiny next to her; Shamal was already taller than her by half a foot, but the newcomer was even taller, with surprisingly broad shoulders and large arms.

"Oh-- It's been too lo--ong!" Blue crooned, one of her hands moving to brush some non-existent dust from Shamal's uniform coat. "What have you been doing, and is anyone else coming? No? Not even Sicchan or Vita-chuan, aww, how disappoi--nting… And wait, who is thi--is?"

Shamal appeared completely at ease with Blue's saccadic speech, unlike Asuna. It took her a few seconds to realize the subject, such as it was, had fallen to her. By then, Shamal had already introduced her by name and function, adding that "she's only here for until we finish our current job. It just didn't feel right not to introduce her to this place before then, though."

"Oooh? Where will you end up after this the—oooh, wait wait, pardon me--," the exuberant woman interrupted herself, "I didn't mean to ask for Bureau secrets! Forgive me, Shamal-chan--?"

"Just this once, and only if the food is good!" Shamal bantered, and Blue made a show of looking relieved, prompting a few chuckles from around the room; it seemed like the woman made a bit of a stir with her welcome, although Asuna had a feeling she caused a bit of a stir _wherever_ she went.

She was also getting the feeling that there was something _strange_ about her, besides the obvious.

Blue turned back to Asuna with a whirl of long blonde curls and smiled with full teeth. "Do you think you'll be able to come here after you're done?"

"I doubt it," she replied honestly. What was it… was it her hair? Her smile? Or… was it… was that…

"Awww--w! That is _such_ a shame!" Blue crooned, stepping back and covering her face with a hand. The coat-carrying familiar made a show of pouting in disappointment. "Well then, we'll just have to make it a night you'll _ne--ver _forget! Ju--lie-cha--an, tell the girls to prepare something spe--cial for our guests, will you plea--se?"

"Yes mistress!" The tabby familiar chirped, then bounced off to the kitchen, giving the coats to another (blue with yellow tiger lines) along the way.

Blue grinned widely and led them to an empty table near the middle of the room. "Well ladies, have a gr--eat time! It's on the house!"

"Why, thank you Blue, I'll have to bring guests more often," Shamal said, although she added, "of course, that might be the whole point," with a teasing edge.

"How ho--rrible, Shamal-chan!" Blue gasped. "I'm hurt!"

"Mistress, phone call!" came a shout from near the front door.

Blue's grin became a smile and a wink, and she said, "Well, duty calls. Enjoy yourselves, Asuna-chan, Shamal-chan," before leaving with a flutter of her skirts.

After looking at the departing person's back for a few seconds, Asuna turned toward Shamal and voiced her suspicions.

"That was a man, wasn't it."

"You're pretty sharp, I see," Shamal giggled. "Welcome to Blue's Square."

The menu floated in, and Asuna took a look. Her eyebrows climbed up her forehead. "I feel quite welcome already, thank you."

--

—**105°W, 54°N, Spineridge Valley, Verde Mesa, Midchilda—**

—**Time-Space Administration Bureau GDF-controlled Restricted Area 72—**

Sitting in the comfortable and well worn pilot seat of Helicopter #1, Storm Raider, Vice glanced at the indicator panel in front of him, at the little blip in the corner where the outside temperature was noted. Verde Mesa was quite a bit north of Kuranaga, a little less than halfway between it and the north pole, and combined with the late time both in the year and in the day, it served to explain the uncomfortable "4°" he was seeing there. Oh, he was fine, sitting there in the heated cabin, but he knew that just eighty-three point six meters below him, beneath the thick canopy of giant evergreens that covered the lands, his partner was following a road he could barely see in the darkness of the night, naked as the day he was born.

It was important to note that the notion of "naked" had little importance to a wolf-type familiar with a thick pelt of fur. That is, if Zaphira was a familiar. He wasn't clear on the wolf-man's relationship to the boss lady, or even how Vita, Shamal-san and Signum-neesan fit in the picture; he dimly remembered hearing her call the boss lady her "master" (or was it meister? His grasp of Belkan had never been too good), but...

"Still ok there, buddy?" He asked telepathically.

"_I am fine_," Zaphira replied. "_I do not need rest for now_."

Oh well, it didn't matter. The wolf-man was the wolf-man, familiar, guardian beast or whatever. He was a stoic and wise old dog who, at the moment, was being ten times too stubborn for his own good.

"_Proximity warning, increase altitude five meters,_" Storm Raider said, and Vice quickly followed his instructions.

Yes, so, if Hayate really was his master, then his stubborn refusal to stop following the trail for the night would make sense. It didn't help that Vice had no master, and that he didn't want to have to explain to the boss lady why he'd crash landed one of her helicopters in a tree because he was flying nearly blind at ten PM; the disadvantage with magic drives was that the same energy was used to make the rotors spin and the lights shine, and even magic did not come in infinite quantities.

"_Perhaps you should head back to Long Arch and report for now_," Zaphira suggested. "_Remaining here will not be a problem for me, but you must be running low on fuel_."

"_Fuel_ _reserves are fifty two percent depleted,_" Storm Raider reported in agreement."_Estimated flight time remaining before point of no return, thir--_"

"Storm Raider, shut up_._"

There was a slight pause before his device replied, "_Understood_."

"And sorry, Z, but I can't do that. The boss lady'd skin me if she learned I came back and left you without cover. You're tough and all, but if we stumble on them, you'll need backup."

"_I doubt we will find them so quickly, if at all_."

He was probably right, too; Verde Mesa, being a plateau roughly fifty kilometers wide created by freak circumstances of tectonic movement that pushed the massive rock up like a cork, surrounded by treacherously sheer cliffs was one of the most inaccessible and remote areas of Midchilda, which showed in the fact that its coniferous forest had been left almost completely untouched by man. Trees that Nanoha-san and the boss lady would have compared to oversized versions of Earth's pines stood sometimes a hundred meters tall, forming a nearly unbroken blanket of spiny leaves forty meters thick and strangling whatever plant would have wanted to grow beneath in a perpetual night.

As a result, except for the massive, sometimes meters wide trunks that supported those mighty titans and the occasional rotting husk of a fallen giant blocking huge swath of lands from passage, there were very few obstacles anywhere, and since the trunks were spread very sparsely, there was a lot of trails that the thieves could have taken, even with something as bulky as an APC. Coupled with the thieves' Groundhog-class APC's limited hovering capability, it meant that they could have got off the main path anywhere (which they must have had) and could fly off the mesa from anywhere (which they could have done already if they'd taken the shortest path (which they didn't seem to have)) without having to take a chance on the man-made and heavily watched bridge that connected the storehouse to the outside world (which they hadn't), which was why wolf-man was down there on the main path, trying to track the point where they had left the beaten dirt road.

His helicopter was equipped with infrared vision, but the bitterly cold nights around this area meant that _that_ trail had vanished even before they'd even known about the attack. It also had a MADAR (**Ma**gic **D**etection **a**nd **R**anging) system, but their stolen ride was shielded against it, just as it was protected against telepathy scanners and fourth-dimensional tracking.

Like everything made by the Bureau, the stolen Groundhog-class APC was a damn good piece equipment. Too good, at the moment.

Said dirt road was about twenty-six kilometers long, but as Zaphira was carefully trudging along to make sure he didn't lose the trail, their chances of catching up to the runaway thieves so early were minimal at best—fortunately, their aim was less catching them and more finding where they'd fled to; if they had somehow found themselves a transdimensional ride, then no amount of searching on Midchilda would solve the problem, and the case would be relayed to the Main Branch, and would end as an unavoidable failure for Section 6's first mission; not exactly the kind of first impression an elite section wanted to have.

"Doesn't matter if our odds aren't good, I ain't leaving alone," Vice finally replied.

"_Then you are being stubborn_."

"You're the one to talk."

Amusement. "_Perhaps_."

And then, the only sound that came to Vice's perception was the rhythmic beat of the helicopter's rotor, and the wave-like whistle of the window rustling between the branches. The night was clear with the few clouds present clearly drawn by the dim silver light of the two full artificial moons and the much stronger glow of Alke, one of Midchilda's two natural moons.

"_Proximity warning, increase altitude by two meters_."

Whoops, better stop paying attention to the sky, and start looking at what could take him out of it!

"_I smell something_," Zaphira reported after Vice had completed the maneuver.

The pilot straightened up, unconsciously reaching for Storm Raider's key. On his own, Storm Raider changed the environmental data screen to show infrared instead. "What is it? Did you find them?"

Maybe they had a technical problem? How convenient would that be?

"_I do not think so_," Zaphira replied. "_I'm going to check._"

The infrared vision wasn't seeing anything, but that didn't mean much; once stopped, the thieves' stolen ride cooled very quickly.

_Far_ too good equipment.

"Hold on, I'm coming." He set the helicopter in automatic hover mode, pulled out Storm Raider, then went in the back section and grabbed one of the descent cables. He paused a second, looking at the forest of spines below in trepidation, before throwing himself down, right into the mess; his barrier jacket made it barely less unpleasant than it could have been. Once down, he transformed Storm Raider in weapon mode and moved in where he knew Zaphira was.

When he got there, at the edge of the rarely used but clearly visible dirt path, he found the wolf-man, in human form—boy, but he was _big_, wasn't he…—squatting a little bit off the trail, looking at the ground like a Scryer tribesman. He grunted once, and Vice didn't know why until he moved close enough to see what had caught his attention. And even then, it took him a second for him to realize what he was looking at.

He gagged.

--

"Can you confirm that?" Brigadier-General Yagami Hayate asked in consternation. In front of her, the windblown face of Vice floated in an M2D. The young man shook his head.

"Not certainly, but as far as we can tell, the bodies are those of Sikorsky, Verissa and Miata… well, what's left of them, at least. Looks like something found them first and had a snack. Whatever happened, it looks like we're not hunting traitors down anymore; that clue's a dead-end, if you'll forgive my bad joke."

"I… see." Hayate lied. She _wished_ she saw what this meant, though. "Thank you, Vice-kun. Come back now, get some rest. You two will resume the search will resume in thirteen hours, the backup team will take over for now." The "backup team" was a pair of scanning expert under the command of pilot alternate Alto Krauetta. It was really too bad that, with their flagrant lack of personnel, she couldn't afford to put actual combat mages in the other helicopter. If they found the APC, the only thing they'd be able to do would be call for help.

"Aye aye, ma'am." She saw Zaphira move closer and smiled inwardly, knowing what he wanted.

"Lady Hayate—" "Denied, Zaphira," she interrupted. "I know you'd be able to handle yourself alone out there, but I'd much prefer if you were rested, ready _and_ with combat-capable backup when you find them."

She ignored her doubts about whether or not they'd be able to catch them at this rate; the safety of her people was more important.

"…understood." It didn't sound like Zaphira agreed, but he wasn't going to disobey her. She smiled and banished the M2D away, mulling over the report.

Either it was a clever ruse, or Sikorsky, Verissa and Miata were dead, and had been killed only a few hours after the attack. What had happened? A schism? Had the underlings overthrown their leaders, or had those three been pawns all along? Maybe they hadn't been as immune to the poison as they'd thought?

Hayate felt a headache growing as possibilities jumped around and mixed into an undecipherable mess.

"What's going on?"

**-**

**-**

**End chapter 2: Questions**


	4. Chapter 3: Interception

"Good morning!"

Vivio Takamachi, twelfth seat of class Adelheid, first grade, was smiling as she followed the other kids up the big marble stairway. Her classroom was on the fourth and highest floor, but unlike the other kids the climb didn't bother her; so long as she kept her glowing hands in her pockets, no one would notice the levitation spell she'd been using every morning since she'd learned how to cast it.

Nanoha-mama had told her not to fly in front of people from outside the base. She had told her that most people couldn't fly at her age, and that she should keep that she could it a secret, but that seemed like a really silly reason; her friend Acchan knew a lot of big words that no one their age knew, and _she_ didn't have to keep them a secret. But Nanoha-mama had told her not to, so she didn't… fly, that is. Nanoha-mama had never said anything against a little floating here and there.

There was probably another reason she didn't think Vivio could understand. Nanoha-mama was Nanoha-mama, but she was also a _grownup_, and they did weird things all the time, like work and write reports and read long boring stuff and work and stuff. And work. They worked too much, she'd already decided, except Nanoha-mama since she spent her days playing fight with Teana-san and Subaru-san and Caro-chan and Erio-kun, and that was why Nanoha-mama was the best.

But grownups also sent her to school, and school could be fun sometimes. Not as fun as staying with Nanoha-mama or Fate-mama, but it was fun to play with other kids (well, she amended, with Acchan, Shaomi-chan and Micchan, at least, and sometimes Francis-kun and James-kun and Naomi-sempai and Ran-sempai, but not with Nishino-baka or Wenzel-baka or Yukari-sensei because she was a grownup too). Plus, some of the lessons were fun. Not maths, since that was _booooring_, and reading wasn't much fun either, and magic the…theo… the stuff with the drawing of glyphs and things made her head hurt sometimes, but that was fine because it led to Practical magic.

And Practical magic, which happened once a week ever Saturday morning (tomorrow, she reminded herself with a small bounce in her steps), was fun. Even if they spent most of the time trying to make useless little balls of colored light, those that fizzled if you didn't put enough into it and blew up if you went too far. She liked to go too far, because they always went bang in such an _awesome_ way even though Yukari-sensei didn't like it, since she wasn't supposed to blow them up.

But it wasn't her fault if explosions were _awesome_. And besides, Nanoha-mama and Fate-mama blew stuff up all the time, and their explosions were a lot bigger and _awesomer_, and Nanoha-mama's were the biggest, so she was the _awesomest_.

Her classroom wasn't far from the staircase, just a couple of doors away on the right wall, just in front of that weird stain on the floor that was shaped like a cloud. And her seat wasn't very far from the door, just two rows away from Shaomi-chan's seat and right in front of Acchan's. Yukari-sensei wasn't there yet, but that was normal. Acchan was there, and that was normal too. She liked to leave early even though she ended up having to wait, because that way she avoided seeing her parents—unlike her, Acchan had only one mama, but she also had a papa—not getting along.

Vivio frowned a little at that, not quite understanding the concept. If they lived in the same house and had a baby, didn't that mean they loved each other? But if they did, why didn't they get along? She had people she couldn't get along with too, like Wenzel-baka, but that was because she didn't like her. But Acchan's papa and mama were her _papa and mama_, how could they not like each other?

She'd never shared those thoughts, though. Not even with Nanoha-mama. She'd never found an answer, either.

She was pretty sure it was one of those silly grownup things again.

Bah! Grownups!

----------------

Magical Girl Lyrical Nanoha

~Through Troubled Waters~

Chapter 3: Interception

----------------

—**Memorial Park, West Kuranaga, Midchilda—**

—**October 30****th**** 0076, 0712 hours—**

Built on grounds that had once belonged to an improvised ammunition factory deemed useless by the end of the war a few years prior to its creation, Memorial Park was a sprawling area covering a few hundred square meters east of The Wall. Originally sparsely forested and highly gardened, subsequent Kuranagan administrations had preferred to turn the somewhat lackluster flowery tourist bait into an even less glamorous but less maintenance-intensive wooden park; except for the couple of statues, monuments and the handful of billboards retelling bits of war history everyone already knew, there was no difference between Memorial Park and any other forested park in the city.

That wasn't altogether a bad thing, Fate decided as she and Shamal strolled on a sleepy interlinking carved stones path framed on both sides by trees tinted in rich oranges and yellows, both from the morning sunlight and the seasonal changes of autumn. The occasional early bird twittered, but even the gentle breeze seemed louder. Fate took a deep breath, reveling in the cool freshness of the air and in the sweet natural smells around them; it was hard to believe that this park was in the middle of one of the most densely populated cities in the known multiverse!

It was altogether a very pleasant park, and Fate made a mental note to—

"…to bring Nanoha-chan here for a walk one of these days."

"A—U—Uh?" was the only thing Fate could think of retorting while Shamal impishly giggled.

"That's what you were thinking, weren't you? I have to admit it _is_ quite romantic, in a poetic kind of way…"

Pausing a moment to gape at the air like a shored fish, the younger blonde shot the doctor a sour glare. Curse her, she'd been right, too.

"I'm hoping you didn't hear about that from Hayate-chan," or a reckoning might have to follow, higher-ranked or not.

Shamal actually looked surprised. "Oh, Hayate-chan knows too? That's nice," no it wasn't. It was anything _but_ nice. She had just informed her enemies of each other's existence. _Damn it all._

"And for your information, we've known for a long time," Shamal replied as the path took them to the rim of a circular plaza, in the middle of which stood a large stone fountain around a marble statue of a mountain Drake, one of Midchilda's symbols back in the war era, "at least a few years, in my case."

Fate stared at her in shock. "A few _years_?"

"Hm… something like seven years, maybe?"

The younger blonde choked. H—How… She'd only known it herself for _four_!!

As if to explain, the older woman gave her a motherly smile. "Fate-chan, I've been alive for a lot longer than you. Pining lovers, oblivious loved ones… I've seen that story play out dozens of times."

And obviously she had nothing better to do now than torture those younger than her (making the entire world, except the Wolkenritter, a potential victim) with that knowledge… Wait. Hold on. "We? As in… the other knights too?"

Shamal nodded cheerfully, and Fate felt a little part of her curl in a defensive ball.

"Signum?" It was hard to imagine the stoic woman taking interest in someone else's love life—

"She got very good at reading you, with all the sparring you do. She saw through you even faster than I did."

Fate choked. Even faster? "Zaphira?" Surely the guardian beast wouldn't…

"Only figured it out a little before Mobile Division 6 was formed, the big lout."

Then… "…Vita-chan?" Couldn't be, right?

"She was actually the first one to notice," Shamal chirped, and then giggled at the face Fate made. "You made quite an impression on her, showing up out of nowhere to defend Nanoha-chan like you did way back then, when you first met. She thought it was quite romantic, like you were one of the knights from _Mitternachtsschilde_ and Nanoha-chan was your Gabriele—"

"This is the place, isn't it?" Fate interrupted. The last thing she wanted to imagine was the ferocious faux-little girl swooning over mushy Belkan plays. Or herself as the gallant and romantic knight cliché the ancient Belkans had loved so much, for that matter. She tried to dissipate the heat in her face and hoped vainly that her ears weren't as red as they felt.

Shamal made an amused chuckle and glanced at the plaza. "Yes. There are plenty of other monuments, statues and the likes, but this is the only fountain in the park," she said, though Fate already knew that, having been the one who'd found that information in the first place. It was nice of her to play along with Fate's dodge, though. "So we have the place, what about the time? Stanz didn't tell you that, did he?"

"No he didn't, but…" Fate trailed off to look around the plaza. Maybe Stanz hadn't noticed it, or maybe he just didn't care, but such a big, expensive and especially nationalistic monument wouldn't be left unwatched for any ill-intended ruffian to damage with impunity. There had to be… there couldn't _not_ be…

And there was, right there, skillfully hidden in one of the archaic and no longer functional electric lamp posts that framed the plaza, a little glint of glass on the pole, beneath where the lightbulb would have been.

A camera.

"C_onnecting. Signal accepted. Password Recognized. Connection complete. Accessing recorded data._" Bardiche reported, and an M2D appeared in front of her; her own image gazed back at her, while the Other-Shamal stared in surprise at the other-floating-screen the same way the real Shamal was.

"_Scanning…_" the image froze, then the faux-Fate on the screen turned away, then stared in shock at the impish doctor, then walked backward out of the frame. The rewinding sped up; the golden light dimmed and fell into night, then back into dusk, into full day. People, animals and weather flew by, almost too quick for Fate to even register them, but she knew Bardiche was still going at a speed he could keep up with. Another night flew by, then another, and another, until finally the screen froze again on a scene five days ago.

"_Suspect Located,_" he reported. The sky on the screen was overcast, but bright enough to tell it was daytime. The plaza's only visitors were a pair of young men necking on the bench on the only path the camera could see, an old woman in a luxury fur coat walking her dog (a Midchildan Tetratail, very chic, though _it_ appeared to be the one walking its master instead) and a young person in full trench-coat and hat crouching near the far edge.

Though anyone looking once would only be seeing him (it was a little hard to tell) adjusting his footwear, Fate immediately spotted his other hand reaching into one of the bushes on the plaza's south side. She glanced at the clock. 17:23, Twenty-fifth of Tenth.

It didn't escape her that looking just a little earlier would let her see who had put the weapon there in the first place. It was really too bad they were about to destroy evidence against that bastard, but it couldn't be helped; they had bigger fish to fry than Victor Stanz.

"Got him," she said, and told Shamal what she'd found. The doctor nodded once.

"Then I'll get started…" the air around her shimmered with a gentle green; her Barrier Jacket appeared. She took a focusing breath and started chanting, "_Blick hinter den Vorhang der Gegenwart und in die dichten Nebel jenseits. Koordinaten: Vor Fünf Tagen um Siebzehn-Dreiundzwanzig, Reichwaite Einhundert Meter._ _Nebelbrise_."

Klair Wind materialized with a eager "_Jawohl! Nebelbrise!" _

Fourth Dimensional Tracking was the kind of technique that every law enforcement institution on Earth (or anywhere in any galaxy, for that matter) would have salivated about. By bending space-time, it was possible to create a very small connection between a moment in the past and the present, allowing the transmission of energetic data, which a device could then decode into visible light; it was, to put it in simple terms, a way to look directly into the past. The amount of magic necessary depended both on the area searched into and the "distance" in the past, but for someone with Shamal's magic reserves, looking five days into the past over a hundred meters was child's play.

It wasn't perfect, however; space-time was delicate, and bending it the way 4DT did caused a fold that could never recover itself (…as useless as the concept of "never" was in this context; obviously time couldn't be given time to fix itself). It was a one-time shot that prevented anyone else from searching the area anywhen a few "days" around the time searched. In short, if they hadn't gotten the time right, they could have accidentally erased their trail for good.

This particularity was also one of the best ways to shield one's self from 4DT; often seen in sensitive areas or military vehicles (such as the GDF's stolen Groundhog-class APC) was a jamming module that could periodically throw a "flare" of warped space-time simply by using the same searching method they prevented. Doing so was "loud" and easily sensed, but Bureau experts had long ago figured out ways to camouflage the flares into a planet's normal space-time displacement.

A pity, that, or finding those murdering thieves would have been a lot easier.

Glittering cables appeared between the device's ring containers and its crystalline extensions, swirling into a circle to form a small portal. There was a brief flash in the circle, and Fate felt the world _lurch_ indescribably as the fabric of space-time was bent irremediably.

An instant later, Shamal smiled in satisfaction. "It worked. I see him."

"I assume it really is a 'him', then," Fate noted.

Shamal nodded in confirmation. "His shoulders are too wide, and his center of gravity is a little too high… He's moving away. This way."

Following a days old trace visible only in space-time was an interesting experience, Fate had decided the first time she'd done so. Today, though, she decided that doing so in a public environment by following a woman in full barrier jacket who stared into a glowing portal was a little embarrassing from the curious stares they brought. Thankfully it was early, though.

It didn't take long for anyone who'd ever read a modern mystery novel to figure out what they were doing, but that didn't stop them from staring away. A sharp glare was enough to chase away the more daring among them who'd decided to try and take a peek into the portal. What, did they hope to see themselves into it? Honestly…

"He boarded a car," Shamal said, stopping at a parking spot where currently stood a motorcycle that looked a little the worse for wear. She gave the license plate number and added, "there's someone else in it, a woman."

Fate looked. The woman in question (who sat in the passenger's seat) was tall, svelte and quite attractive, the kind who'd walk into a room and pull every pair of eyes—including, Fate admitted, her own—on her like a magnet, but there was something about her that made alarm bells ring into her mind, far more than base female jealousy.

The man put the package in her hands, then boarded the driver's side of the little nondescript, if derelict, car and gunned the engine.

"_Lightning one to Long Arch, requesting flight permission,_" Fate sent. A few seconds later, Lucino's voice replied with approval. "Bardiche," Fate ordered quietly.

"_Set up._" And with a flash of gold, Fate was in her barrier jacket. Shamal had already taken flight and was following the trail a few meters above the road. Fate easily caught up to her.

Doing their best to ignore the stares they were attracting, the two flying women followed the car five days gone among the streets of The Wall and West Kuranaga, all the way to Midoria Highway, which they "took" southeast until the junction with the perpetually busy ten-lane Central Highway, which the red car took north. The plascrete practicality of inner West Kuranaga's pre-modern buildings gave way to the artful nobility and ancient pride of Old Kuranaga, the section which had once been protected behind the now gone fortifications. The highway crossed the Kuranaga River, which sectioned the city in half and bordered the northeastern side of Old Kuranaga, and carried their trail into the business district of Highrise. There, the car left the highway and joined the ever-busy streets bordering the district's numerous anti-grav skyscrapers.

The sun above their heads had finished its ascension by the time the glass and steel titans had given way to the high-density plascrete residences of East Kuranaga. It had started descending when the car left its darkening golden streets to roll into the underground parking of a nondescript apartment building in every way similar to the ones surrounding it.

The guardian in the portal, a graying old man with a crooked nose stuck in last week's issue of Playmate, looked up, saw the parking badge on the car's windshield and hit the button to make the blocking bar vanish.

The guardian in front of them, a five days older graying old man with a crooked nose stuck in this week's issue of Playmate, looked up, saw them standing there in barrier jackets and dropped his magazine.

"Ah… can I help you?"

Fate smiled. "Probably."

It had taken very little to convince the old man—who turned to be the building's manager as well—to lead them to their quarry's apartment; it turned out he'd been weighing the plus and minuses of reporting them for the few days (eight days, to be precise) since they'd arrived. In his own words: "I thought they were a strange bunch, packed up in the same room like that. For a while, I thought they might have been tourists—they had accents as thick as butter, though I got no idea where it came from—but they sure didn't look like they were enjoying themselves… well, except that one woman."

He also denied ever having seen Johanne Sikorski or either of the other two traitors.

He also claimed to have never seen them leave, but that they'd left without telling him at least three days ago. Considering the timing of the attack, which had occurred several thousand kilometers away later that day, Fate put it down to four days: it had to have been in the middle of the night, and the old man couldn't be expected to check if each of his fifty or so rooms of tenants were still occupied every day.

The apartment in question was an otherwise completely normal three-roomer on the fourth floor of the building. Barely inside, signs of overpopulation were evident; beddings covered much of the hallway and the entire living room. The bathroom had also acquired a certain foulness; with a silent accord, both she and Shamal decided not to give more than a cursory glance inside.

Sole exception to this was, ironically, the bedroom; instead of being full and cramped, the relatively small room's single bed had been covered with cushions and pillows, most of them so new they still carried a brand tag. Some of said cushions still had indentations, and Fate noticed that the shape was all wrong for it to have been a single person; one, two, three… at least four shapes, she counted, but many could have been erased or mixed up. She reached for one of the cushions and smelled it; beneath the overpowering smell of sweat, faint fruity and flowery scents floated in her nostrils.

Unless one of the men was particularly effeminate, this bed must have been where the women had slept. She raised an eyebrow; it was strange that so much effort and money had been taken to make the girls comfortable. Either what they had here were very gentlemanly thieves (she doubted it), or… or what?

She tossed it aside as unimportant, and after giving one last glimpse at the room, she joined Shamal and the old man in the kitchen.

"What kind of tornado went through here?" she asked as soon as she saw the room's state over Shamal's shoulder, ignoring the old man's grumbles.

Shamal shrugged and moved aside, allowing Fate inside. A tornado disaster zone would have probably been cleaner, she decided after the first glimpse. Littering the floor were several twelve packs' worth of empty beer cans, enough cigarette butts to fill the many cigarette packs carpeting the tiles, enough empty instant food packets to keep an entire class of Midchilda War University frat boys fed for a few days, but more interestingly, the ripped up remains of several large boxes marked with the logo of Farsight Technologies.

It took Fate a few moments to realize where she'd heard the name before, then it clicked; the power suits. She did a quick count and turned to the old man.

"You didn't think that the 'strange bunch' picking up five big boxes of high-tech military equipment was suspicious enough to be reported?" she asked.

The old man appeared flummoxed. "I…I…" then he clicked his fingers in realization, "They must have done it on Sunday. I always go to fishing trips in Northwoods on Sundays to revive my old bones… I leave the door unlocked, you know, so the building's people don't get inconvenienced…"

Fate frowned and added it to her timetable. Sunday had been five days ago; still no conflicts. "I suggest you at least pick up an AI to check things out."

He chuckled. "I'm afraid I'm not made of credits, ma'am."

But Fate had stopped listening and was already looking around. The apartment's M2D system had been wiped clean, as expected. The phone hadn't, however; an interesting oversight. A single call had been received and, after copying the number down (it later turned out to be a public number from somewhere near Central), she noted the time.

"Shamal, I need you to track again; October twenty-sixth—four days ago—at eighteen-twelve."

Shamal nodded and tried, but the portal fizzled out as soon as it formed. She shook her head.

"Jammed," she reported apologetically. "Looks like they know our tricks."

"Hn," Fate replied absently, not surprised at all; 4DT was known even among civilians, as it often ended up on telescreen series. Any professional worth their salt would know it and take measures against it as well. She mulled over what they'd learned so far.

The thieves weren't Kuranaga natives, which really didn't tell her much; Midchilda had plenty of languages and cultures, including a good dozen independent indigenous tribes (the nomadic Scryer and animist Lushe tribes came to mind). The phone oversight meant that they had little knowledge of how Kuranagan telecommunications worked—they probably had expected the M2D wipe to clear up that log—and since the same standards were applied everywhere on the planet, it meant they most likely came from off world altogether.

The power suits had been brought here without anyone noticing: the thieves had probably planted or bribed someone at Farsight Tech so it wouldn't be reported. They'd known about the surprise inspection, the details of which Section 3 always guarded ferociously, even inside the Bureau itself—probably another bribe there, and the fish had to be pretty high up. They'd acquired a very specific poison, had known who to contact to get the distribution system, and with three traitors' help, they'd hit a storehouse.

The entire thing was planned to a level that screamed of professionalism to Fate. Professionalism and money.

That, and betrayal. The entire operation depended far too much on the Farsight and Section 3 bribes and on Victor Stanz's cooperation. They'd had to have some kind of insurance in every case to make sure someone wouldn't end up tipping the police or the Bureau off about them.

Not bribes, then. Blackmail or treachery.

More treachery.

But why? And how far did this go? How long had this been planned for?

And why the phone call?

A signal? But if everything was planned so well, why would a signal be necessary?

Wait a second. Unless they'd specifically looked around Kuranaga for apartments with guardians who liked to leave their post predictably (and there was a limit to how far one could research before it started to become ridiculous!), they couldn't possibly have known it beforehand. Yet, the suits had been delivered here, something that would have ruined everything if he _didn't_ have that habit.

Meaning, the suits' delivery had been a last minute arrangement. There remained an element of improvisation in their plan, which might explain why the looting had been done so haphazardly; they hadn't known the actual content of the storehouse. At some level, therefore, they'd been unable to get all the information they needed.

So, maybe… maybe if they hadn't been able to map out Kuranaga's MADAR system… if they hadn't found the best, safest place for it, then… maybe the phone call was to hand out the drop-off point…?

She spent a few moments digging in the mess surrounding the phone, and sure enough, there it was; a notepad.

"Bardiche, map scan, analyze it for writing indents."

An earth professional would have known about this and taken the time to write down on something else than the notepad itself. Midchilda and the worlds administrated by the Bureau, however, had been blessed with the convenience of M2Ds for at least a few decades, and very few people ever bothered picking up pens these days. A normal Bureau investigator would have probably missed it as well; it was at times like these that Fate was glad she'd been raised on a "primitive" planet.

"_Yes, sir. Scanning. …scan complete. Writing detected._" A victorious grin appeared on Fate's face. "_Decoding… decoding complete. Message content: 35 2342 N, 73 1024 W_."

"GPS." Shamal voiced Fate's thought even as the younger blonde brought up an M2D. Before Griffith could even ask, she spoke: "Call the forwards and Nanoha. We might have them."

----------------

"It's a building near the western edge of the Dead Zone, sir," Lucino Lilie reported, "we're getting the blueprints now… looks like an apartment complex."

First Lieutenant Griffith Lowran acknowledged her with a curt nod, trying and failing to make himself comfortable on the command chair.

Of all the times for Yagami-san to be away! Still, he'd taken the same command classes as she, in the same academy, and he was in fact even older than her. He could do this, right? Right. Yes he could. He would. She had picked him for this job, hadn't she? She knew he could do this. He believed in her, who believed in him.

Maybe if he said it to himself enough times, he'd start to feel more confident.

Was this chair _supposed_ to be uncomfortable?

"Send the data over to Star… I mean, Alpha one as soon as it's here."

"Yes sir. Sending."

"The Alpha-Stars team is underway, Alpha one in the lead," Alto Krauetta reported. She didn't look bothered by the squad's name change at all. "They'll get there about ten minutes before Lightning one and Shamal-sensei."

"Tell Vice to fly low and quiet, move the dropoff point some distance away… make it a hundred meters. Alpha-Stars will walk over once Lightning one makes contact. Let's keep surprise on our side as much as possible."

"Yes sir!"

Wait. Maybe they had scanners? Snipers? Maybe Vice should have flown slower instead, and the dropoff point on the building's roof? How strong were they, would the Forwar—that is, would the Stars squad be able to hold their own? Maybe they should have been spread to prevent any escapes, leaving Nanoha-san, Fate-san, Vita-san and Shamal-sensei to do the fighting? Or…

The sound of the doors sliding aside cut through his nebulous thoughts. Asuna Marquette has just entered the command room. He scolded himself; he was the last one allowed to doubt himself, especially right now!

"Doctor?" He asked the section one woman, who froze into a crisp salute.

"Sir, I've finished the autopsy on the corpses we found in the woods. Brigadier-General Yagami wanted to have the results as soon as I was done…?"

"She's away right now—conference at the HQ," he added at her confused look. He hoped the meeting was going well; it seemed lately that these meetings wanted nothing but to de-evolve into sessions of "Question the purpose of Section 6" that forced her to defend not just herself, but everyone else who supported the move.

He took the report, but didn't open it. "What did you find out? Is it really them?"

The young doctor nodded. "DNA and core signature scans confirmed it. Finding the exact moment of death was a little harder, but I managed to pin it to somewhere around thirty hours before sealing. As for the cause of death, it was a point-blank force bolt in the third cervical vertebra… the back of the neck," she clarified. He nodded.

"I see." So the accidental poisoning assumption had been wrong, and Sikorski and her accomplices' deaths had been deliberate. Then… "Were there any sings of struggling?"

"It's hard to tell," she replied. "Some animal got to the bodies first, about twenty percent of their flesh was eaten, including most of their arms and legs. What was left didn't seem to have contusions or injuries, but…"

But there could have been, just as there could have not. Right. "Thank you."

"Sir," Asuna saluted crisply again, then spun on her heels and left.

"Alpha-Stars is nearly the dropoff point."

"Lightning one, ETA two minutes."

"No signs of scans, no magical activity detected…"

"Passive scanners reveal nothing unusual, active scan on standby."

Putting the report aside, both on the chair and in his mind, he focused instead on the ongoing operation.

Almost showtime.

----------------

Her distracted hand absentmindedly swayed the crystal-clear cup in front of her eyes, sending the liquid amber of fine Molavian wine in a merry dance. The strong afternoon sun pierced the recently converted cloakroom's large window bay and refracted through the luxurious alcoholic drink and on the fabric of her regulatory brown skirt, but her mind barely registered it, just as it barely registered the liquid's warm taste running around her mouth, focused as she was on her internal quandary.

The third trimestral meeting had adjourned just a few minutes ago, and Hayate could not have been gladder of that. In the two hours it had taken, she'd found herself having to answer seven pointed questions, attacks veiled just enough to appear legitimate and within the rules. This was a considerable number, considering the overall count had risen to fifteen, and that the heads of all six Sections had been present.

Thankfully, they had followed a predictable pattern; her opposition had decided, after the failure of their first attack, to organize their questions beforehand, and had taken a fancy to discussing it with her staunchest opponent, Lieutenant General Yvan Corsair—or Lord Grand Hollow on Midchilda—of Section one, eighth Battle Division. It had thus been very simple for Signum and Agito to _acquire_ the information she needed (though means she preferred not knowing; there was a reason she'd sent the loyal and ruthless leader of her Knights to do it).

All things considered, things had gone mostly well, somewhat thanks to her foreknowledge. It didn't seem, however, that the opposition was growing any weaker—one could actually have argued the opposite—despite what her backers had assured her. She was pretty sure the first two meetings of this kind had not been so exhausting, although it could be because this had been the first meeting since her Section's actual _activation_. Still most of the questions had been easily dealt with.

Most of them.

One of them, from Lord Grand Hollow himself, had caught her by surprise. And it was the cause of her current thoughts.

"_One of my analysts discovered some important information was missing from the post-operation reports of the Scaglietti incident, and as the head of Mobile Division six at the time, I would like to ask a precision about this to Brigadier-General Yagami, if I could,"_ his tone had been deferent, and although Hayate herself would have rejected it as being unrelated to Section six, the question had been approved anyway. He had continued, _"Thank you your honor. Brigadier-General, I would like to ask a precision as to how exactly Jail Scaglietti managed to acquire something as… voluminous as the ship he'd used during that incident. None of your reports contained this, yet it could easily have led us to whoever was backing him, or if such a person existed._"

In hindsight, allowing her surprise to show on her face had been a serious mistake. The look on his face was one of thinly veiled satisfaction, as he'd _finally_ been able to get under her skin.

"_I'm afraid none of my investigators found anything relevant to this question, sir,_" she'd replied, and she mentally kicked herself in hindsight. Although his rank was technically higher than hers, she was a Section Head, thus her authority outclassed his; if anything, _he_ should have been the one calling her "Ma'am"! "_Scaglietti seems to have covered his tracks well, and even the Numbers were unaware of whether or not he was receiving help."_

"_What a shame,"_ His reply hadn't _quite_ been insolent, but only just. "_We were merely curious to know how a ship of its size and armament could have been powered by a single D9 core, or how it could have remained active after the core's destruction at your subordinate's hands. _

"_Not,_" he had quickly added at the frown the head of Section 1, Grand Marshall William Meadowbrook, had shot him, "_that we believe any part of the report was a fabrication, of course," _Hayate made an annoyed sound as she remembered that part; if anyone hadn't believed he'd been trying to hint that her report had been faked, they had then._ "But merely because if this possibility exists and more potentially hostile factions are aware of it, then there remains the possibility that a similar incident could happen."_

The cup's edge met her lips and a tiny amount of its content flowed into her mouth, burning her tongue with its strong fruity flavor. The way the explanation had been worded made it sound reasonable at first glance, but thinking about it again made her realize it was anything but. Scaglietti had been a rogue scientist, known to work for hire to whoever could give him what he needed. However, he'd also been an _arrogant_ rogue scientist, the kind who ferociously guarded their secrets to prove and preserve their superiority over lesser mortals. It would have been easier for one of his associates to pull the tooth of a chicken than to gain any kind of technical knowledge from him.

That Corsair would ask specifically about this had raised alarms in the back of her mind. It wasn't, however, the truly alarming part of what he had said.

"_I'm afraid I don't know anything about this that was not included in the report,_" she'd lied, as there _had_ been quite a bit left unsaid on those files, "_If that is all, we can proceed to the next question—"_

"_As a matter of fact, I do have another question,_" he had interrupted. Hayate had been somewhat pleased to see the frown reappear on Meadowbrook, and to hear the sharp hiss of breath from Chairman Hester Lexcen, next to her on the seat of Section 4 at his breach of protocol. Yet again, however, he was not reprimanded, as her own words had (stupidly) included an opening for him, and at her reluctant nod, he continued with an arrogant smile, "_We found a piece of a post-operation report from one of your forwards at the time, ah… Ah, yes, Teana Lanstar, about the artificial mage they'd found with a relic… Was the way she'd gotten herself in this situation ever found? And what about her genetic sibling's identity?"_

"_No,_"she'd replied, this time not quite managing to contain the surprise that crept her voice, and she pursed her lips remembering the victorious glint in the man's eyes. "_I'm afraid she does not remember how she got there. And as for your other question, I'm afraid that's still a mystery as well, and DNA tests have proved inconclusive._"

And that was the problem. Mentioning Vivio right after the Cradle's disproportionate power? And her "genetic sibling", the proper term for the source of genetic material of an artificial mage? Never mind that through his whole speech, his eyes had been staring at her in challenge. This hadn't been a question, but that wasn't a surprise. It hadn't been an attack either, not quite; there was nothing in his question that could have hinted on incompetence, nepotism or whatever other vice they wanted to paint on her as this week, nor had it aimed at anything that could breach Section 6's _raison d'être_.

What his words had been had to be a threat. He'd told her, if not directly in those words, that he _knew_.

Knowledge of the Cradle had been carefully censored out of every report she had submitted to the Bureau, and she knew the same had been done by Chrono Harlaown. Except for a select few members of the Church, Chrono, herself, Fate, Nanoha and, of course, little Vivio, no one had an inkling of what the Cradle truly was.

And for a good reason, as the ship in question featured prominently in St. Monarch scriptures. The story, if her memory served her correctly, went that the God-King, ruler of the heavenly kingdom of Alhazred, was one day attacked by thirteen of his most trusted generals, one led by ambition and avarice, the others by fear of him. After defeating them, the Lord ordered them killed for their transgression, but His compassionate daughter, hearing the pleas and cries of those weaker men, had convinced Him to punish the twelve, henceforth known as the Misguided, by banishing them to the world under, with Herself and Her children to guide them and their children.

The Cradle had been Her ship, the ship She had used to carry the Misguided down on the world, and which the scriptures claimed would eventually be used to carry those faithful to Her teachings and to Her children, the Belkan royal line, back to His side.

While, thanks to the emergence of 4DT and archeology by observation (unstable as it was over long temporal "distances") very few holy men and women still advocated a literal interpretation of the myth, finding the Cradle was still roughly the equivalent of discovering Noah's Ark and the Garden of Eden at the same time. That someone like Scaglietti had found it and managed to make it fly (without, as far as anyone but those in on the secret believed, the presence of a member of the officially defunct Belkan Royal Family, one of Her descendants), and that the Bureau had been forced to _atomize_ what amounted to a more than priceless sacred artifact…!

Every conformist on the planet would have demanded Chrono's head if they'd only known. And quite a few other heads as well, hers included.

And as for Vivio, it wouldn't be much of a stretch for those same people to make the connection; her abnormally large magic potential—even for an artificial mage (_that_ they hadn't been able to censor away without bringing Midchilda's Child Protection Services down on their heads)—was public record for anyone who bothered to make the effort to look, and it had been impossible to hide that she had been rescued from the ship. Add to it that members of the Belkan Royal Family were written to be the only beings in the multiverse capable of making the Cradle move, and you ended up with a tightly bound but easily unraveled nest of secrets that should _never_ find themselves unearthed, for Vivio's sake among others. Knight Carim herself had assured Hayate that no one would find out.

But then, out of nowhere, there came L-G. Corsair, hinting that he _had_ found out, that he _did_ know and _could_ easily topple everything down on everyone's heads just by speaking up, unless she did what he wanted her to. He hadn't made his demands yet, but she knew it was only a matter of time until she found herself on the bad end of a rather cruel case of blackmail. She wished she could say she would not do what he wanted, but faced with the trouble and danger the truth would bring to those she loved…

No. She wouldn't be able to say no, and she knew it. And until he made his move, the only thing she _could_ do was find out how he'd learned, plug the leak, and then find a way to keep him quiet. Without more information, however, there wasn't much else she could do.

A throbbing pain in her mouth and the faint coppery taste of blood pulled her out of her thoughts and made her realize she'd been biting her lip in worry. She forced herself to sigh, took another, longer, sip (and winced as the alcohol burned at the fresh self-inflicted injury), put the quarter-full cup down on the table and tried to clear her thoughts by looking around. Until recently, this cloakroom, Section six's private cloakroom, _her_ cloakroom, had been little more than an extra storage room, and it showed in how spartanly furnished it was: except for the elegant reclining chair she was sitting on, the small coffee table in front of it and the three-seat sofa on the other side, the seventy-some square meters room, all colored of woody browns and creamy beiges, was completely empty.

It was traditional that the current head of the room's Section put up only one ornament in the room during his or her stay, without once removing anything. Supposedly, it was supposed to be a way for the heads to humble themselves knowing the kind of shoes they stood in, but Hayate found it to be a silly custom; the room of Section 4, whose head changed every half-decade to ensure a fresh influx of ideas, had to look like some kind of museum after over seventy-five years of service. As soon as she had some time to herself (which wasn't likely to happen anytime soon, she admitted to herself), she'd already promised herself a complete renovation job, and to hell with tradition!

She could start by moving the chair to the outer wall, for one, although maybe the sofa would look better there. The windows were much too high for her tastes, too, and could use some heavy curtains on the upper half. Maybe something in blue, although she was partial to burgundy, and—

Someone knocked on the door. Hayate glanced at the clock and noted that she'd only been sitting there for a handful of minutes.

"Who is it?" she called, and smiled when a familiar voice replied,

"It is us. May we come in?"

"Come in, come in!" the door opened and the leader of her Knights, Signum, stepped through, with Agito and Reinforce Zwei fluttering over her shoulders. The latter happily glided over to her side while the normally stoic pink-haired woman gave her one of the private warm smiles she had never allowed anyone but Agito to catch sight of (intentionally, at least). Hayate returned it warmly, motioning for the sofa. However, Signum did not move from the door.

"You also have a visitor," she announced, and moved aside as Admiral Harlaown revealed himself with a light wave, his lips curved in a friendly smile.

"Chrono-kun! I haven't seen you in… in…"

"I think it was after the post-op party, before you got it into your mind to throw aside seventy-six years of good old tradition to get better toys," he replied, his amused tone devoid of any sting. She shot him a raspberry anyway and invited him to the sofa as he closed the door behind him and Signum took her seat.

"So what have you been doing?" she asked as soon as he was seated, "And how in the world did you ever find the time to meet me like this? I want your trick."

He chuckled. "Well, as you've probably heard from mom already, I was given the twelfth fleet," she giggled at his nonchalant tone and the roll of his eyes; Lindy had been positively ecstatic about the news and had proceeded to both announce it to everyone she knew and embarrass her son in front of said everyone.

Not that there was anything glamorous about the twelfth fleet. Only a small fraction of the navy's massive tonnage served in the Intervention Fleets, the Main Branch's equivalent of mobile divisions and an Earth Navy's Task Force; most of it was assigned in "fleetlets" of eight to ten ships (plus a small screen of destroyers and light cruisers), like the twelfth fleet, and served mostly as a point of origin and emergency show of force for I.D. patrols. And as the patrol fleet count was in the hundreds—inevitable, and in fact insufficient, considering the infinity of ID space the Bureau had to patrol, perhaps the single unusual point of Chrono's command was that its number was only in the double-digits.

It certainly wasn't like he'd been given command of one of the very few Guardian Fleets—which, despite counting hundreds of hulls under the same command, made up less than a tenth of the navy's overall tonnage (and over eighty percent of the navy's scarce heavy elements).

However, it _was_ his first long-term command, and since he'd done so in record-breaking time, at only _nineteen_ years old, Lindy Harlaown had every reason to be proud of her son. Even if said son wished she was a little less jubilant about expressing that pride!

"And as for how I found time," he continued with a theatrical glance at his wristwatch, "I just made some."

"Meaning, people are waiting for you," she accused.

"Meaning, people are _soon_ going to be waiting for me," he corrected, grinning shamelessly. "There's nothing going on that my flag captain and staff officers can't handle anyway, and we're not due for departure until tomorrow morning."

"So you're leaving the last minute preparations to your underlings. You heartless tyrant, I'm shocked and appalled," she jabbed playfully, and he chuckled in response. "So, what did you ditch your poor overworked slaves to see me for?"

"I was on my way back from talking to Knight Carim—she's going to want to see you soon, by the way—when I saw those three," he motioned at Signum and Agito and pointedly stared at Rein, "storming their way over here like a pack of angry saberwolves." His grin softened into that patented "big brother" smile he reserved only to Fate and herself. "I take it things didn't go too well for you?"

Hayate winced. "You could say that." And she told him, as well as the pair of unison devices and her knight (who, although she was not allowed to listen in on the meetings, seemed to already be aware of the general gist of what had happened), of the "questions" Corsair had asked her and what she believed it meant. His joviality vanished about midway through, and her three subordinates took on faces with various degrees of dismay.

"Ghh, that damn bastard," Agito was the first to speak up. Or, more accurately, snarl up.

"If he does know about Vivio and the Cradle, then he has to know how people would react to knowing she's essentially the divine daughter," Signum voiced, using the (archaic) term for the crown princess of Belka. And she was right, a corner of Hayate's mind noted; seeing as the entire clan had been wiped out at the end of the great war, by isolation as executing someone with nigh-invincible automatic defenses turned out to be notably difficult, Vivio having their blood in her veins and the ability to use the ultimate defense was good enough to qualify her for it in the minds of most.

It was probably a good thing the kingdom of Belka didn't exist anymore, Hayate decided as her mind wheeled away from the complications this would have brought.

Unfortunately, it did nothing for the religious implications.

"I don't think we can assume he'll have a sudden bout of guilty conscience. From what you're saying, Hayate, he looked pretty happy to arm that warhead over you," Chrono sighed, passing a hand through his short black hair. She nodded in confirmation.

"He's a bad person _desu_!" Reinforce declared while stomping her tiny foot in mid-air, drawing an eye roll from the older and more jaded unison device, and tension-lifting chuckles from the humans around her.

"Well, we can't do much about it except keep an eye on him, for now," Chrono said, repeating Hayate's thoughts without knowing it.

"The real question," Signum voiced, crossing her arms and legs with a thoughtful frown, "is how did he find out? The list of people who do know is pretty small, and I can't think of one I wouldn't turn my back on in combat."

"I can," Agito sniped while her limbs crossed unconsciously to mirror her partner's pose. "Scaglietti and the Numbers. And any one of 'em would love to get back at us for the beatdown we gave 'em."

Hayate frowned at this (even as she noticed and approved of the little device's inadvertent pronoun usage). Apparently, in her mental shuffling, she'd put Scaglietti and the Numbers, or at least those that remained, far enough out of her mind and into the "dealt with" section that she hadn't even considered them. There was a reason for the vast majority of them, though.

"Scaglietti isn't a danger," she said. "The guards stationed in high-security prisons aren't rotated unless there's an emergency, and Lady Carim has already assured me that those assigned to him are both reliable and firmly in her camp. No matter what he'd say, they wouldn't tell a soul except her."

She noticed Chrono made no reaction to this, despite the disproportionate amount of influence for her rank this hinted in the blonde paladin. She herself had no problems with it; had anyone else meddled in the Bureau's organization like this, she would have felt at least a little uneasy, but Lady Carim was a good friend of hers, and she knew her intentions were good. Sure, she bent the rules, but why worry if she didn't mean any harm?

Shaking away those stray thoughts, she continued, "Major Nakajima's squadron is still stationed in the low-level facility where most of them are locked up, since Ginga-san is leading their reeducation. Security is tight enough to let him hear anything they say and send, and he'd have told me if anything had slipped out, but…" Her frown deepened and her hand reached for the wineglass. "Unfortunately, that's not all of them."

"And definitely not the worst ones," Chrono agreed.

"Uno, Tre, Sette and Quattro…" Signum sighed.

"The right-hand maiden, the yes girl, the yes girl's follower and 'specially the sneaky bitch," Agito colored with a snarl. "The lot of 'em know as much as Scaglietti, and they'd just love to royally screw us up." She crossed her arms and legs, levitating a few inches above Signum's shoulder, and sighed to herself, "I still don't get why they weren't executed."

"No capital punishment for civilians," Hayate smiled at the old complaint. Among the rules of the Bureau, this one was the one Agito and Signum—and the rest of her Knights as well, for that matter—had the most trouble with. That wasn't very surprising, considering how both of them lived on warrior codes that seemed to have been pulled ahead from a couple of centuries in the past (though one could argue that it _had_). She was well aware that both of them considered leaving someone as dangerous as Scaglietti and his most loyal cronies alive, if imprisoned for life, was the epitome of stupidity.

And if Agito's guess about Corsair's leak was right, then they just might have been right about that as well.

"Carim didn't mention the Numbers, though," Hayate continued. "I assume she arranged for reliable guards there too, or at least to have a way to check if anything leaked out, but with everything going on…" she sighed. "It's possible that Corsair managed to sneak a few of his subordinates in the guard roll without Carim spotting him. Not likely, but I think it's our best bet. Since he didn't do this last time despite the thorough trouncing we gave him," she noticed the small hint of a smirk that flashed across Signum's stoic face, and the shameless grin that covered Agito's, "we should check any guards that were changed in the months since then, to see if they're part of the eighth battle division—"

"You mean _I_ should check," Chrono interrupted scoldingly. "You have quite enough trouble in your hands at the moment."

Hayate blinked, then frowned at the agreeing (and treacherous) nod from Signum. "But aren't you supposed to be leaving tomorrow?"

"I am. Mom isn't. If I sic her and her connections on this, you'll have the leak begging to eat in your hand and deny everything he told Corsair within a week at most." He smiled kindly and stood, "you worry about those stolen Lost Logia, and let us watch your back a bit. Okay?"

Hayate wasn't convinced, but felt herself nod slowly while she stood as well to accompany him. His smile took an air of satisfaction.

"Good, then I'll get right on that. And if you need anyth—" he was interrupted by the strident call of an urgent message ringing through his storage device and the apparition of an M2D.

Responding to his mental command, the screen allowed the connection and the image of a woman, just a bit older than Chrono himself, in the deep blue and white uniform of the Bureau's navy and the single star outline of a commodore adorning the badges on her shoulders. Deep violet eyes almost-glared at Chrono under shockingly crimson bangs, and one of her hands was barely visible along the lower edge of the screen, nervously playing with the thick French braid she'd slung over her shoulder.

"Admiral, where are you?" The young woman, who Hayate guessed was Chrono's flag captain, asked. "You were supposed to be here ten minutes ago. We're scheduled to leave in only thirteen hours and the initial patrol assignments haven't been worked out yet!"

"Then, Captain Riva, shouldn't you be getting working on that?" Chrono asked calmly. Admirals did not, by nature, apologize to their subordinates, flag captains or not. "I'll be back soon enough, I just had some important business to complete. I should be back within… oh," he made to check his watch, "twelve hours or so. Harlaown out."

The window vanished, strangling Captain Riva's indignant splutter of "Twelve h—". Then, at Hayate's condemning mock-glare, he said,

"She's good. I know she can do this with both hands tied behind her back, and she likes having someone watching over her shoulder far too much for her rank. And besides…" the corner of his smile quirked in a smirk, "she doesn't know it, but she's listed for rear-admiral sooner or later. I'm just giving her some valuable experience."

"I'm impressed, Chrono-kun," Hayate replied, feigning amazement while her knight and the pair of unison devices looked on in amusement. "What dedication! To go this far to give her a valuable example of what not to do must certainly take courage from you… unless, of course, it's just that you're being lazy and want to spend some down time with Amy and the twins before you go."

Chorno mock-recoiled. "Miss Yagami, I am shocked and appalled that you would think so little of me."

"It's true, though."

"Lies and slander we will duel over!"

"I'll sic Rein-chan on you," she 'threatened', and the aforementioned device took a boastful pose on cue.

He gave her a shocked look. "You would not dare."

"Or Shamal."

"You fight dirty," he declared darkly. The pair "glared" at each other for a few moments, then chuckled as one. Chrono finally gave a glance at his watch, for real this time, and sighed when he looked up. "I'd better be off, anyway. I told mom I'd visit her before I left, and that's one rendezvous I wouldn't ever dare being late on."

Chuckling and nodding in agreement, Hayate accompanied him to the door. Once outside, he gave her a sharp salute and a fond smile. She returned both.

"Godspeed, Chrono-kun."

"Same to you, Hayate. And tell sis and Nanoha-chan I said hi for me, will you?"

She nodded. "I will. Now off you go, so you can't tell Lindy-san you're late because of me."

"Curses. Foiled."

And he left, leaving a laughing Hayate to shut the door behind him. She was still chuckling when she returned to her seat under the amused gaze of the three other women. After inviting her knight to take a drink and taking a quick sip from her own glass, she met her eyes.

"So, what about that other thing I asked you to find out? I trust there was no problem?"

Signum paused in the middle of raising her glass to her lips.

"Agito looked into it for me," she looked at her device, who'd been locked in a staring contest with Rein.

Agito looked away with a grunt of irritation—and a victorious cheer from the other device—to reply, "It's like you thought, boss. She wasn't in the list. I had to look pretty far to find it, though; the forgery was almost perfect, but they missed her graduation picture. Or rather, that she _wasn't_ on the graduation picture she should've been on. Whoever did it got sloppy." She flittered over Signum's glass, dipped her hand in the alcohol and brought it to her lips with an air of utmost decadence. The pinkette didn't even blink.

"As for who did it," she continued, "I couldn't find it. The forgery was too big for it to be anything but an inside job, though, and it's elaborate enough that it almost has to come from pretty high up on the food chain. 'couldn't find what her orders are, though, but we know for sure she's not what she says she is."

"I didn't really expect you to find her orders, anyway," Hayate replied, "and I can already make a good guess about them anyway."

"Then are you going to confront her about it?" Signum asked.

Hayate hummed about it for a few moments, then shook her head negatively.

"There's no need to. If she's here to evaluate me, telling her I know might lead her to believe I'm only acting for her benefit. If she's here for some other reason, she'll tip her hand sooner or later. Since it was an inside job, it's not like I can expect her to actively move against us while we're on a job as important as this one. All and all, there probably isn't much danger in letting her do whatever she's being told to… at least for now."

Signum didn't look convinced, but nodded slowly.

----------------

"She's late."

Eloise Méhari paused in her cleaning of her knives to shoot a sour look at Vincent Veyron, whose deep baritone had just broken the almost-silence of their hideout. Veyron was a huge man, the burly type she could easily imagine getting into and winning bar fights at the drop of a hand. His arms were like trunks, never mind his legs, and his hands seemed big enough to grab and crush her head if he felt like it. She herself wasn't small, at a hundred and seventy centimeters, but he topped her by a whole head. His square face had a weird scar under his left eye, and his nose had definite signs of having once been broken and never reset properly. All and all, he was a very impressive man, and it was such a shame for him that his magic had never developed accordingly; he was, at most, a D-class mage.

Of course, only she knew that, and only because she'd extracted that little secret from him during a moment of post-coital weakness. He probably hadn't even noticed.

"We know she is," Eloise sighed and tried to make herself more comfortable on the terribly rigid surface of the diallium chest in which the few Lost Logia they weren't carrying on themselves remained sealed. Her thick legs crossed and uncrossed in discomfort. "But if you plan to have a talk to her 'bout that, then I wanna know in advance."

"You sayin' you'll stand up with'im?" Fritz Sherpa twanged from where he lounged on what had once been a support pillar, a lecherous grin on his scarred lips. She a glare at his one-eyed face.

"Fuck no, but someone needs to bury his ass, and if I leave it to one of you worthless slimes, he'll be stinkin' up the place for months," she replied. Snorts ran across the room, and Veyron's face took on an interesting shade of puce that did nothing to make him more attractive.

The laughter froze when he pointed "his" Lost Logia, a magic cannon that had a lot in common with old war-era shotguns, straight at her.

"You sure you wanna mess with me, _poulette_? You know where you'll end up." His dark grin took a lecherous air, "hell, you might even like it."

She replied with her own salacious grin and reached in her pocket for "her" lost logia, which she triggered. The next thing he knew, she was behind him, lips breathing at his ear, and one of her knives was delicately caressing his carotid artery.

"Sorry Veyvey," she whispered, "but your… gun… isn't big enough to take a second shot at me."

"Oi, both of you, knock it off," André Camargue called from where he sat against the wall, ignoring the catcalls. He was their unofficial "leader" and official voice of reason in most things. "Méhari, stop using your toy. You'll get us detected."

And immediately after saying that, Carmague, as well as a good portion of the wall, vanished in a flash of pink.

---------------

The thieves' chosen hiding spot was a typical war-era apartment, like the vast majority of what could be found in the Dead Zone. Wartime resource crunching and an incredible need for housing had favored residences with a lot of room for a lot of people, very few walls, and a design simple enough to be mass-produced. It wasn't quite a loft, however, as the materials' poor quality had forced the designers to add a certain number of support pillars at claustrophobically close intervals, which now stood precariously cracked and worn, if not outright shattered, by time and disuse.

None of this registered on Teana's mind as the forwards erupted into the room in the wake of Major Nanoha and Captain Vita's opening volley. The only thing she understood was that there was a lot of room to get range into, a lot of inconvenient cover spots for the thieves to use, and a lot of thieves. Because many of them had still been wearing their armors, or at least pieces of them, the opening volleys had been less efficient than she'd hoped; of the original dozen, only two had been definitely taken out. Two more had been winded, but enough to stop them from calling up their barrier jackets before her squad arrived.

This left ten opponents, whose power armor and Lost Logia made them even tougher than they should have been, against their two front-liners, herself in close support and Caro acting as the firewall and back support. Major Takamachi, Captain Vita and Enforcer Harlaown soon arrived to help out—with dramatic effect—but the end result was the same; as much support as she and Caro could give, Erio and Subaru were easily separated forced to fight alone.

On the bright side, they were definitely able to hold their own. Subaru's ground speed was enough to keep her out of the hands of her massive opponent, who couldn't be less than two meters tall, and Erio's two opponents were finding out that the little boy was a surprisingly dangerous target. As for the higher ups, they could and did handle over half the enemy's numbers. In fact, there was only one enemy who wasn't engaged one way or another, and Teana frowned as she realized he had a Lost Logia. From the looks of it, it was a ranged weapon, and he was probably just waiting for Erio or Subaru to give him a good shot. She aimed.

"_Piercing shot_!" Cross Mirage barked at her command, and the orange blast flew forward, impacting first against the surprised man's shield, then _drilling_ its way through (huh! That had never worked with Nanoha-san, what a surprise) to impact against his armor where his collar bone was hidden. The man staggered, wincing, then shot her a hateful glare and—

—and turned around, running straight for the exit.

Well, that was fine. Caro was there to stop escapees like that. When she looked back at her allies, though, she found they were having a lot more trouble than she'd expected. The massive man had successfully grabbed Subaru's unarmed arm and was wrestling with surprising success with her mechanical strength, and Erio's two opponents seemed to have caught him in a bind. They'd need Caro's support spells, and if she sent her to chase after that man…

Never mind that, with a ranged Lost Logia and a lot of room and a lot of cover, a target as big as Fried would be an easy target and could get seriously hurt.

This ran through her mind faster than she could realize it did, and before she knew it she threw herself at the exit.

"_One of them's escaping, I'm going after him. Keep boosting Subaru and Erio, Caro!"_ she broadcasted as she crossed the doorway and erupted in the hallway beyond.

"_Ah—Y-Yes!"_ Caro replied.

"_Hey wait, Tia, I'm—Gh"_ Subaru's reply was cut off from her distraction. Erio didn't reply.

She knew Subaru was worried about her, and hoped she wouldn't let it distract her too much. Her piercing shot could go through his shield, and confusing, cover-filled, cramped environments were the illusionist gunslinger's best battleground.

She'd be fine.

She hoped.

----------------

The massive broadsword fell down on Strada's shaft like a wrecking ball and Erio grunted with exertion as he angled it downward, barely moving his fingers away in time to avoid the diverted blade. His opponent, an ugly scarred man with only one eye, made a grimace as he was forced to step backward to avoid a vicious slash from the spearhead, but Erio had no time to push his attack that a volley of knives flew through the air right in front of his face.

He barely had time to think, a humbling experience for a speed fighter backed by several boost spells—Caro, sitting on Fried's back in the sky, was really outdoing herself this time. He'd already been forced to ignore a report of some kind from Teana-san, there'd just been no time for him to register it.

His opponents were not that tough; Nanoha-san and Fate-san were both much harder to defend against, and he'd already managed to nick the man's armor twice. The problem was that the man still wore the top and legs of his body armor, which meant that not only were all of his hits powered by an extra level of magic, but that anything short of a direct powered hit with Strada's blade wouldn't as much as bruise him.

Unfortunately, that was a hit that his other opponent would not grant him; although she seemed to have only a handful of knives at any given time, she'd already thrown over two dozen at him, each time with humbling accuracy—his barrier jacket had already been cut at a few places with contemptuous ease, hinting that these were enchanted blades. He'd already come pretty close to hitting her twice, now, but—

Erio avoided the massive broadsword and their combat moved toward the wall. Trained battle instincts immediately noted that the woman was now stuck between him and a pillar. Muscles moved before he'd even fully realized what he'd seen—

"_Sonic move!_"

—the room blurred, and the next thing he knew, Strada's blade ripped a hole in the pillar. Knowing more than sensing the next attack, he threw himself aside, spear still in hand, barely in time to avoid the volley of knives that clattered against the damaged plascrete.

The woman was ten meters away, not even phased by the speed she'd moved at.

How was she _doing_ that?! The obvious suspect was the Lost Logia in her hand, a weird medallion thing with a chain hanging from it, but what was it? Teleportation? Hyper speed? Time stop?

Considering the knives he'd avoided just thirty seconds ago were missing, he was leaning toward the latter two—

_Sword_!

The weapon crashed on Strada's shaft once again, only this time Erio's position wouldn't let him divert the blow. He winced and grunted at his arms' protests.

Where were the others? He looked, very quickly.

Nanoha-san. Duelling three foes in full body armor in a short range projectile battle. Apparently winning, though it was hard to tell. Knowing her, she should be able to help him soon. Busy.

Fate-san. Locked in battle with an unarmored male using some kind of blade of light. A foe was coming from behind her, but if he judged her position right—and he was—she already knew he was there. Busy.

Vita-san, steadily drilling through a foe's Jewel Seed-powered shield. Busy.

Subaru-san, grappling a man in powered armor. Losing… she looked distracted by something?

Caro, casting a boost. Probably aimed at Subaru. Busy.

Teana—

He wasn't able to find her in the short time he had. And while he'd been looking, the woman had gathered up her knives and was getting ready to throw them at him. There were too many targets, and they were much cleverer than training drones; while Nanoha-san had done her best to prepare them for this, it was difficult for their undersized Section to bring enough strong mages to help them train.

No choice, then. Time to cheat a bit.

"Strada! Cartridge Load!"

"_Jawohl!_"

And that's when the mechanism jammed.

----------------

"Fortunately, it's not as bad as it looks," Shamal explained gently while giving the finishing touches to the bandages wrapped around Erio's arm.  
Teana had never admired the doctor as much as today; the way she had made a straight human arm out of the black and blue mess it had been was nothing short of miraculous, even with magic involved. The little boy had remained admirably stoic while his wounded limb was being set back, probably thanks to a mixture of a Fate-grade calming spell and a large dose of shock. He'd been lucky his barrier jacket had been so strong, or he would have had a stump instead of a healable mess.

No casualties, one lightly wounded, the mission report would list on their side. And Teana knew, both from herself and from the looks Captain Vita was giving her, that this time she really had screwed up. She averted her eyes from the faux-girl's.

She should not have left the battle to go after that guy. She, the commander of her squad, should never have left it to fend for itself, especially not without leaving a clear chain of command behind. And she definitely should not have gone after a man armed with a weapon of unknown power with no backup. At the time, it seemed like the most logical course of action. In hindsight, turned out to be a mistake that had nearly cost half her squad—including herself—their lives.  
She glanced at Subaru and wondered if the plainly visible look of guilt in her eyes came from the fact that she had _also_ left Erio behind, or if it was because of what she'd done—of what Teana had forced her to do with her reckless actions.  
She figured it was the latter, from the way Subaru was looking at her hand and the faintly pinkish tint of her freshly washed skin.

The mission report would list this as the operation's result: Eleven captures, one kill.  
A brilliant success.

She felt sick.

----------------

"…and then, and then sensei said I used it right!"

Nanoha-mama smiled at her, her hands running a comb through Vivio's dark blonde locks while the little girl told about her day. She always had a lot of things to talk about since a lot of things always happened at school, and Nanoha-mama always did too, about a meeting or a story or something funny happening during training.  
Today, though, it seemed she wasn't completely focused, but Vivio didn't mind. She knew something had happened since Nanoha-mama had been the one to fetch her at school herself instead of sending Zaphira-san or Shamal-san, and Nanoha-mama was always busy with training usually. She also wasn't saying much. Plus, she actually smelled a little sweaty.  
_That_ never happened either.  
Plus, Fate-mama still wasn't back; she was 'finishing everything', Nanoha-mama had explained, without giving more details.  
It was probably boring grownup things again. Yeesh.

"That's good," Nanoha replied. The comb ran over Vivio's bangs and the little girl's face scrunched up as they tickled her nose. "And what about your friend, the one you're helping a lot? Did she manage it?"

"Acchan?" Vivio blinked, and nodded a little, "she did it in the end, but it took her a while. It wasn't that complicated, though, just a channeling matrix."

Nanoha-mama made a face. Unknown to Vivio, she was actually thinking over the kind of maths a matrix like that required, and exactly how far ahead this was of earth's grade school curriculum… as well as how hard it had been for _her_ to figure them out without Raising Heart's help…

The door made a soft chime, and Vivio almost ended up with comb pins in her eyes when she bolted upright. It opened and revealed Fate, who was immediately assaulted by a six years old (arguably) bundle of "Mama!". The tall blonde picked her up and, after greeting her properly with a big hug—Vivio noticed she also smelled a little sweaty, but mostly like that weird not-bad not-good smell during thunderstorms—spoke to Nanoha.

"The storehouse confirmed it, we got everything that was stolen. Nothing's missing."

Nanoha smiled. "Great! That means it's all over? For us, I mean?" Fate nodded.

"Yup, finding who _else_ was involved in this mess is up to Section 2, our job's all done. All that's left for us now is the trial, and Hayate assured me that we _merely mortal_ officers won't be bothered with that, since there's really no denying they're the ones who did it," she paused in mid-step, then added, "Well, there's the trial, and then there's the paperwork, which we _will_ be bothered with."

Fate giggled at the grumpy air Nanoha's face took. "Oh, pooh."

"Oh, come on. It's not that bad. You just sign a few forms, fill a few more, and try to resist sending the whole blasted lot of it into orbit without teleportation! And ok, so _some_ of us here might have trouble with that last bit…"

"You mean all of us, don't you?" Nanoha grinned impishly.

"I was excluding Vivio here," Fate said, and Vivio made a surprised and delighted squeak as she was bounced in her blonde mother's arms, "but on second thought, she just might do it to her homework one day." She raised her voice an octave and said, "'I'm sorry sensei, I did my homework but my divine buster ate it!'"

"Mama~!" Vivio protested half-heartedly.

Nanoha giggled ("Nyahaha,"), and Fate joined her, both in laughter and on the sofa. The little girl delightedly pried herself from her mother's arms and lay herself down on both their laps. Nanoha's comb resumed its motion, and Fate closed her eyes and finally allowed herself to truly relax. For a few moments, she closed her eyes, pushed her full weight into the plushy seat and enjoyed the way her muscles thanked her warmly and the sounds of her family. Yes, as Nanoha had said, it was all over. The thieves were caught, the lost logia had been recovered, and no one had been injured seriously.

The stray thought almost made her groan in irritation. As it was, she sighed, then opened her eyes to glance at Nanoha. The other woman's violet eyes were looking at her in amusement, as if she was privately following the thoughts coursing through her mind.

"Erio is fine too," she said. Nanoha nodded. Apparently, she'd been expecting that.

"I know, Shamal told me as soon as she had the verdict, seeing as I'm his training instructor," she explained. "No straining while his arm finishes healing. I need to make them work on teamwork a little more anyway." She grimaced. Fate knew she wasn't too happy with how today's mission had gone.

Fate nodded. "So, the old hostage trick?"

"Reverse princess rescue," Nanoha confirmed with a nod, and Fate's lips twitched. It wasn't quite a smile, and Nanoha noticed. The comb stopped moving. "If you have something to say, go ahead and say it, Fate-chan."

Yes, indeed, Nanoha knew her just a little _too well_ sometimes.

Fate sighed and spoke. "It's about Erio. I—"

Nanoha raised a hand and stopped her. "You want me to teach him ranged magic, or at least something other than melee combat. Am I right?"

_Entirely_ too well. She'd evidently been expecting _that_ too. Fate just nodded, a little glad she didn't have to explain… but also aware that, with the way Nanoha had spoken, she was opposed to the idea.

She knew Nanoha just as well, after all.

"I don't think it's a good idea," Nanoha said, true to form. "You know as much as I do how bad he is at channeling. If I were to try and equalize his skills, I'd have to sacrifice his weapon training, and ultimately that would be bad for him. I know," she raised her hand at Fate's rising objection, "I know that makes him a one-trick pony, and I know how dangerous that can be. But that's why the Stars-L—Alpha-Stars squad exists as it is. Each of them are poorly rounded, very focused fighters. Individually, that makes them vulnerable, but as a team, they're a lot stronger than their levels would imply."

There was a distinct note of pride in her voice. Some of it was pride in her students, but an ugly thought, born from her ire at Erio's injury and of the day's stresses, rose in Fate's mind that much of it was also pride at _herself_ and at her work. Fate felt something uncomfortable rise up under her collar bone.

"You and I both know that's only true if they're allowed to work as a team," she burst out. "Erio got hurt today because they didn't. When Strada got stuck he had nothing else to rely on—he could have been _killed_, Nanoha!"

Vivio made a startled squeak at her exclamation. Wide red-green eyes turned her way.

A frown fell over Nanoha's purple eyes. "You don't need to tell me that—" she began, but Fate cut her off.

"Well apparently I do, since you don't want to give Erio the kind of skills he'll need if this happens again, just to avoid messing up your _pet project_—" she cut herself off there, knowing, both from herself and from the anger that suddenly appeared in Nanoha's eyes, that she had spoken too much.

"Do you really believe that's how I think of them? Do you really think I'd risk my students' lives just to prove a point, Fate?" The blonde winced at the lack of honorific, and at the rising volume of her first and best friend's voice.

"Erio may not be _my_ adopted son," Nanoha said with a calm slowness that belied her anger, "but I care about him as much as you do, just like I care about Teana, Subaru and Caro. I told you my reasons, I told you why I'm doing what I'm doing. Don't you _dare_, just _one second_, think that I'm heartless enough to think of my students like a _damned pet project_."

"I—I'm sorry, I—" a scathing look from the brunette cut off Fate's apology. The young woman stood, hoisting their mortified daughter in her arms. After gently lowering her on the sofa, Nanoha declared,  
"I'm turning in early. Goodnight, Fate."

And she walked to their bed, climbing up the short flight of stairs through the sound dampening field, without looking behind.

Fate sighed. The back of her head bumped softly against the seat cushion.

"_Damnit._"

----------------

A shuffle of bedsheets

"Nee, Tia, are you awake?"

…

A sigh.

"…right. Good idea."

----------------

"Welcome back, General, how did it go?"

Pausing in the midst of hanging his light coat in the closet, Lieutenant-General Yvan Corsair glanced at the other end of his office, where his secretary walked around her desk to meet him. If the question was a breach of protocol, he paid it no heed, instead allowing a cultured smile to cross over his lips. His eyes unintentionally roamed over her shapely form, something he hadn't been able to do until recently.

"Very well," he replied, turning to face her—the closet door slid shut with a silent hiss. "It was just as your friend said, miss Köln. She reacted like I had just sent my brigade to walk over her family crypt. You simply have to tell me what this was all about."

A slow smile appeared over the woman's crimson lips. This was new as well; Kölm had been his secretary for the last three years, and in that time he had never seen her wear so much as eyeliner. She had always struck him as a cold, impersonal woman who was somehow immune to his charms, until her sudden turnabout just… oh, how ago had it been? A week, maybe two?

It was fascinating, really, the kind of change falling in love could do in a woman. It had only been a matter of time, his mind thought proudly, until he ran through her defenses, and he felt fascinated by the gem he had uncovered under all that ice.

"I'm glad to have been of service to you, General," she said. Her swaying steps took her well within his personal space. One of her manicured hands reached up, teasing his chin with the smoothness of her skin as she adjusted his collar. Her breath was warm against his throat as she continued, "and I'm sure my… friend will be more than glad to continue helping us as well."

He smiled. Ah, her mystery friend. What an interesting fellow he (or she) was. He wasn't stupid enough to blindly accept just anyone's help, even for a good cause like putting the Harlaown's nepotistic little protégée back where she belonged. In fact, after the way Yagami had reacted to his attack, he would have been extremely suspicious as well; whatever Yagami was hiding, she was apparently terrified of anyone _else_ finding out. How this mystery collaborator found out was only marginally less important of what his ultimate aim was…

But miss Köln trusted him, and Köln was a very, very smart woman, born from a proud line of Midchildan Bureau officers whose loyalty was second to none, and while he wasn't one to put too much importance in lineage (despite his own noble ancestry), his every impression of her so far told him she was a chip off the old block.

So, if she trusted that mysterious friend of theirs, then he could do no less than to trust _her_ about that. It wouldn't be the first time he'd received anonymous help; their ally was probably too close to Yagami's clique to risk revealing himself.

His hand found hers and caught it gently, then brought it to his lips. "And I look forward to receiving more assistance from him, make sure you tell him that, miss Köln."

"I'll be sure to relay the message," she breathed into his ear, "General."

His arm sneaked around her waist. "Please, miss Köln… call me Yvan."

Her smile grew and her arms snaked around him. "It would not be proper unless you return the favor…"

"If you say so… Cortina."

And as his nose buried itself in her long hair and his lips found her neck, he completely missed the predatory grin that appeared on his secretary and lover's face.

----------------

Fate was aware that looking directly at the glowing screen in the darkness of the abandoned office area couldn't be a good idea for her eyes, but at the moment she couldn't bring herself to care. She couldn't bring herself to care much for the reports in front of her, either, but paperwork had this dreadful/wonderful way of putting her right to sleep, and sleep was all she wanted at the moment. Unfortunately, the sandman seemed hell-bent on refusing her that luxury; her mind refused to clear itself, preferring instead to pepper her with endless admonitions.

Pet project… she'd be lucky if Nanoha ever forgot she'd said that. There was even a voice in the back of her mind that feared never getting forgiveness, the irrational, naïve part of her that was all that remained of the girl who fought for the Jewel Seeds so long ago. As much as she told herself Nanoha didn't have a bone of implacableness in her (at least, as far as slights to herself were concerned, friends were another matter entirely), that little voice refused to stay down.

She sighed and closed her eyes. Her hand found her aching temple and rubbed it; it did nothing but aggravate the pain. Her fingers ran through her blonde locks and tugged at the few tangles they found there. Giving them up as a lost cause, and giving up her thoughts as an unfairly stacked cause, she tried once more to force as much of the post-op reports into her mind as possible. She scrolled down quickly with a mental note of the few parts that required her signature, finally stopping when the thieves' pictures came up.

They didn't look like much, she decided after a short look. It was hard to believe that this was the bunch gutsy enough to break into the raison d'être of the GDF. In fact, looking at them, it was easier to believe they were the bunch they'd caught with their pants down around the loot waiting for their pickup. If it wasn't that every stolen Lost Logia had been recovered, Fate would have assumed them to be a decoy, but…

The pictures returned to text, and Fate was about to resume reading when she realized something. With a frown, she scrolled up, all the way to the first, then back down again, each time looking at the faces carefully.

When she finally stopped on the single female of the group, Fate's suspicious frown had steeled into worry.

"Wait… something's wrong here…"

**End Chapter 3:** **Interception**

**Chapter notes: **

This chapter was a particular pain to write. First the fight scene didn't want to work resulting in a general reshuffling of scenes, then the politics scene came up (and I'm only partially happy of how I handled it), and a character and plotline I decided was superfluous actually _vanished_ mid-way through.

At one point, the discarded scenes I usually leave written between this part and the main text body was several pages long.

Still, I think I managed to cram everything I wanted to in here, so I guess…

Special thanks to Hotaru-chan for German help. You're a lifesaver~! Danke, arigatou, merci, thank you! ;)


End file.
